The Maiden Fair
by Little Magnolia
Summary: She should've seen it coming. After all, she's someone who's died, reincarnated into a once-fictional world, and has lived her new life as normally as she possibly could. Of course some asshole would decide to involve her in the very thing she wanted to avoid. Of course she'd end up being a Maiden. All she can hope for now is to do a decent job being one. (SI/OC)
1. Curveballs

**I**

* * *

 **Curveballs**

 _It's all fun and games until you're the one who ends up being the punchline.  
_

* * *

Sterling liked to think that, by having lived twenty-two years in her past life and having lived another twenty-two in her new one, she had enough life experience to bulldoze through any problems she ended up encountering. She thought she had the can-do mentality for it. The confidence. The _certainty_.

So why, _why_ was she devastatingly unprepared for the disaster that was the now-frozen washroom cubicle she found herself trapped in? The disaster which, as rotten luck would have it, happened to be her doing as she watched the last few traces of frost dissipate from her hands?

"No..." Sterling's voice was that of a shocked whisper as she moved as far back as she could inside the small space. She nearly stumbled over the toilet, which, after feeling the coldness bite harshly against her legs, turned out to be just as frozen as the door—and the lock—was. "No no no no no."

It just wasn't possible.

It shouldn't be possible.

But it was.

She, an Atlesian civilian whose Aura wasn't even unlocked, had just done _magic_. As in, magic of the _absolutely, total impossible_ variety, not of the _Dust_ one. A quick inspection of her shoulder bag even proved that; there were no Dust vials, crystals, nothing. Just her wallet, identification card, scroll, and lipstick.

(Darn it.)

Once upon a time, she might have thought the most unexpected thing to happen to her was her previous death on Earth, the proceeding reincarnation, and the gory, traumatic (and squishy… and bloody… and _wet)_ event that was her birth into the world of Remnant. Which she somehow _couldn't_ forget and dismiss as a nasty nightmare.

But after today, after having adapted to her new life and having lived it as normally and uneventfully as a girl like her could manage, she wanted to take that back.

Forget about her death. Forget about her reincarnation. _This_ , right here, took first, second, and third place of the "Killer Surprise" award.

Especially when she had to remember that, at this very moment, a Schnee party was currently happening outside. A fancy party that _she_ was invited to despite having only, like, ten percent of Schnee blood in her veins because she was practically at the very edges of that particular family tree itself. Not to mention she was also an employee at the Schnee Dust Company, more commonly known as the SDC.

Anyone could enter the washroom at any time.

A groan escaped Sterling's lips, which sounded a lot more reminiscent of a strangled cat than a panicked person. She tugged at her white hair. She could feel a migraine practically coming on. How on Remnant was she going to explain this?

 _Well, y_ _'see, ma'am, sir, it all started this evening when I thought my ovaries had decided to wreak havoc a week earlier than the standard twenty-eight days. Haha… turns out I was actually about to erupt with magic instead of the, uh, you know, and if I hadn't rushed to the washroom I might have banned myself from any future Schnee party. I even glowed for a second before I froze an entire stall! Can you believe that? I know, it's a funny story. The kids'll love it—um, no. On second thought, maybe not._

She shook her head. There was absolutely no way she was going to get caught, not with that kind of explanation in mind.

There was no other choice then. Escape. She definitely had to slip out of here, unseen. Act a superspy, minus the high-tech gadgets, rejoin the party, and once again assume the role of the schmancy-fancy partygoer—she even had the right dress for the part. And a pair of glasses that might have made her look more mature and professional (though, the bow on her head might just be too much). Then, when the washroom finally received some attention, she'll be at the far side of the ballroom, sipping on a glass of wine or something. They'll blame someone other idiot, she'll go home scott-free, and then she'll figure out how to solve her problem without anyone finding out about it.

Presto, one hurdle successfully leaped across.

…If only it sounded as easy as it did in her mind. Sigh.

Well, either way, she had to give it a try before calling it quits and surrendering to fate. Grand escape it was—

She squeaked in surprise and jumped when the silence was suddenly broken by something… ringing? Hold on. She slapped a hand over her mouth, calmed herself down—though her her heart still thudded harshly against her chest—and fought off the urge to hit her head against the frozen door.

Turns out, the sound was familiar. In fact, the mix of guitar and percussion was definitely the instrumentals of a rock song: her scroll's ringtone.

Silly, silly, silly. For a moment, she was actually about to freak out over a ringing scroll. What would people say?

Sterling decided not think further on that and shoved her hand inside her bag, pulling out a sleek, black gadget that she could "unfurl" like its papery namesake. The profile picture of an amber-eyed, dark-haired man in a suit greeted her, informing her who the caller was.

And then she bit back a groan. _Of all people_ _…_ She touched the answer command on the screen.

"Hello, Noir, lovely evening we're having," Sterling said before the voice on the other end could say anything. "Did you know _you nearly scared twenty years off my lifespan_?"

"What?" For a moment, there was confusion. _Genuine_ confusion. But just as soon as it appeared, it melted into amusement. She could easily imagine him smirking. "Oh, I see. I must say, you have to be that sick if a simple call was enough to send you jumping a foot in the air. I saw you leave earlier, before you ask. So I hope you don't die on me; cardiac arrest inside a washroom sounds quite undignified."

Noir Valentine, a man two years her senior, also known as her childhood friend-slash-enemy. She'd considered him a friend because he had her back when she really needed him (in fact, he might just be her only consistent friend as she grew up), but most of the time he was really pushing it with his incessant teasing. And the occasional arrogance that got on her nerves.

But he knew her the best, and she him, so honestly, she wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, she always had a healthy respect for anyone who looked good in a suit. The man rocked the style really well.

"Your concern is duly noted," Sterling answered. She peeked over the edge of the door; there was still no one deciding to answer the call of nature. Whew. Well, either there were plenty other washrooms here or she was just being lucky. For now. "I wouldn't want to destroy your dignity by having you scoop up my corpse before you dump it somewhere. Besides, your location choices are terrible."

"How you know me so well." A chuckle. "And it seems you seem to be recovering quite nicely if you managed to employ sarcasm just fine."

"It comes with being in the agony of each other's company. And sick or not, I'm only sarcastic with you," she said. She shook her head—or at least she would have if she had entirely forgotten she wouldn't be seen doing it. "Anyway, is there an emergency I should know about or is this purely a social call? Because if it's the latter, now is _not_ the time."

"Oh dear. You've forgotten, haven't you?"

"…Forgotten what?"

"That you volunteered to stand in for the emcee while she deals with an issue that's suddenly sprung up. Something about dealing with, quote and unquote, a man who's had one drink too many this early in the evening," Noir informed her. She could have sworn she heard a sigh on the other line. "And in five minutes, a certain SDC heiress is going to be singing and you're meant to introduce her to the guests before she does. If I recall correctly, your exact words when your help was asked for was, 'Well, if it's just a simple introduction, I can totally do that! Easy peasy."

Okay, she had to admit, that was a nearly accurate imitation of her own voice. Nice. But the awe had only lasted for a second, because when the memory finally rushed back with a vengeance—

" _Whaaaaat?_ _"_

She practically screamed out the very word, basically. Her high-pitched voice made a dull echo in the washroom.

In all this trouble about suddenly feeling some kind of power inside her that erupted like a volcano and wondering what she was going to do about it, she'd entirely forgotten about _that_. She'd even managed to talk with the currently sixteen-year-old Weiss Schnee about the slight change in plans beforehand.

"Never change, Sterling," Noir said. It wasn't too difficult to imagine him shaking his head while an amused smile stretched across his lips. A standard Noir reaction when it came to her… er, shortcomings. "In any case, whatever you've gotten yourself entangled with, I highly suggest dealing with it immediately. See you soon. You can thank me for the reminder over a glass of wine—or two—later."

The connection was cut, and Sterling, unable to fight off the urge any longer, stepped towards the frozen door, leaned forward, and smacked her forehead into the bone-chilling surface.

And then she promptly jerked back with a yelp because _oh my gosh that_ _'s too cold_. It almost reminded her of her past life's dry ice incident after some kind of science demonstration by a school guest. Let's say it involved a trip to the infirmary. And a nurse who almost died from laughter after finding out what happened.

 _Ugh, that's not exactly a memory I hoped to recall..._

Abandoning that line of thought, she raised a hand, stared at it, and wondered if she could somehow make fire magic erupt from it to melt the ice and fix this dilemma. If she was suddenly a walking, talking magician—or something else entirely, her gut told her, but she couldn't remember what—then maybe such things wasn't too impossible now.

But after a minute of staring at her hand and lamely shooting it forward, expecting a ball of fire to erupt and destroy the door with an explosion like something out of a Michael Bay movie, absolutely nothing happened. She gave up and turned around, thinking of another way out. She didn't want to deal with the fire alarm and disrupt the whole event, anyway.

So...

There she had the frozen toilet that wouldn't be of any help at all. Then there was the trash bin on the right, full of… you know what, she didn't want to find out beyond the standard dirty tissues. And then there were the walls of the cubicle, encased in frost, and a large enough window at the upper part that was ajar and letting in a beam of moonlight and some stray snowflakes—

Wait.

Sterling brightened. That's it!

The window wasn't ridiculously small to the point that she'd have to be the size of a cat just to slip out without effort. With a little force, she could push the windows further open and, by using the toilet as some kind of stool, she could also elevate her height, reach for the edge, and with considerable effort, pull herself up and crawl out.

Of course, there was the problem of landing safely on the other side, but thank God for small mercies because the location where the event was happening was on the Schnee mansion's ground floor. The worst she'd get out of this was a couple days of suffering from a runny nose because cocktail dresses and snow were never a healthy mix. Especially without her coat.

…Well, fine, there was the risk of injury, too, thanks to her lack of an activated Aura. But, c'est la vie. Nothing came without a catch these days. And she was desperate enough to give this escape a try.

Sterling shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled. She opened them again.

 _Okay, here goes nothing_.

Thank God she opted for a pair of wedges instead of stilettos. Clambering up the toilet seat would have been a challenge of balance and of trying not to shriek the moment she slipped. Thus, after having successfully maintained equilibrium, she reached up for the windows, pushed them open, and shut her eyes for a second as a gust of wind blew against her. Then, after silently saying goodbye to her soon-to-be-chipped nail polish, she gripped the edge of the window tightly, began pouring strength into her arms, and hoisted herself up.

 _Arrrrgh_. She didn't realize how hard that was to do in reality after feeling all her muscles strain from the effort, hard. If she were a Huntress, this would have been cake, but at least she finally had the upper half of her body out of the window and now all she needed was a little more bending—

She froze. Not from the biting chill of the outdoors, but rather because some jerk finally decided to enter the washroom. She heard the door swing open with an annoying creak.

Sterling promptly decided she was _not_ going to be caught dead in such a position.

So far, nobody had noticed her yet—or God forbid, her more embarrassing body parts because of what her dress could expose). That wouldn't last long, though. Therefore, right freaking now, she had to double her effort, _pull_ herself out, and get away from that washroom before someone started screaming and assuming she was some kind of thief.

"So you're sure nobody will come here?"

"There's plenty other _better_ washrooms than this one. Just lock the door."

"Gladly. Finally, some privacy."

Never mind. Make that _triple_ the effort. She was pretty sure something M-rated would be happening soon, judging from the noises the couple were making as they started eating each other's faces. God, those moans…

With one last desperate attempt because it was a go big or go home moment, Sterling jerked her body forward with all her might, felt her balance shift, and finally, _finally_ , watched her vision tilt as she started falling down to meet the neatly trimmed bushes that were apparently lining the walls.

Suffice to say, the twenty-two-year-old was feeling particularly nice and leafy the moment she extracted herself from the offending plants.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

One quick trip past the entrance and the main hallway later (what was up with the Schnee's obsession with snowflake designs?), she was back at the entrance of the ballroom.

And the place, just as she'd found it before, was extravagant, though lacking in color variety beyond white and different shades of blue.

On a normal day, this area would have been spotless, save for those two statues resembling armored knights stalwartly standing at the sides of the grand staircase on the opposite end of the room, gleaming under the moonlight that shone through the curtained windows directly behind them. The chandelier up above would have been shut off instead of shining brightly and accentuating the snowflake patterns on the high ceilings, and, of course, the place wouldn't be filled with many people in different dresses and suits, all moving and talking with a certain polish common with those from the upper crust of society.

It was just too bad that she could hardly pause and appreciate the atmosphere the party provided. All she could worry about right now was delivering a simple announcement without things going haywire. _Please_. So that she could go home and request for a sick leave the next day and figure herself out.

(It's not like the SDC had any shortages of employees who would be glad to take over her spot at the front desk and fake a smile for every person that decided to make a complaint, a request, or whatever.)

But the moment she emerged into the ballroom, Weiss Schnee, looking really pretty in her elegant, white dress, was busy captivating all the guests with the melancholic song that escaped her lips.

 _Mirror, tell me something_ _… Tell me who's the loneliest of all?_

Sterling paused, her jaw going slack. Wasn't she… But that's… Whaaaaat?

"There you are," said a voice from her left. Turning to face Noir Valentine in all his arrogant glory revealed that he had just extracted himself from a bunch of ladies who had clearly been enjoying his presence (though the man himself, not so much but was pretending to). Typical. His gray eyes were lit up in amusement, his smirk was a playful one, and he was readjusting his suit's collar as he walked over to her.

Sterling avoided the inquiring glances being sent her way by the women he'd left behind and disguised her bemusement with a quick adjustment of her glasses. "So I have."

Noir didn't say anything after that. He simply moved closer to her with a strange expression on his face.

For a moment, she started wondering what was up because the women's inquiring glances transformed into jealous ones. They resembled lions with the way they looked ready to pounce at her as their current, favorite person started paying more attention to _her_. But after he'd stepped close enough to invade her personal space—

"You've got something in your hair," he said. He raised a calloused hand—which had been from the constant handling of his weapons—to pluck a leaf from her head. He then smiled and waved the thing in front of her red, surprised pair of eyes before letting it go and drift down to the floor. "It appears someone has had quite the adventure from a simple trip to the washroom."

"I'll tell you all about it someday." Sterling gladly stepped away from the man and stuck a tongue out at him. Seriously, he was too close for comfort. "But I'm pretty sure you've had a lot more adventures than I ever will have, Mister Huntsman."

Because that was Noir was: a person who hunted Grimm day and night just to help keep every citizen in all the four kingdoms (Vale, Atlas, Mistral, Vacuo) safe from those monsters. The only reason why he was in this party was because his parents made him—parents whom were business partners with Jacques Schnee, the big cheese of the Schnee Dust Company, and had thought maybe their darling son would change his mind about his chosen career path once he had another taste of the life of luxury.

He didn't.

Sure, he could walk the walk and talk the talk like any other of the huffy, stuffy party guests right now, but Sterling knew he was just pretending. He always had. The man preferred being out and about. He'd even tried making her train alongside him, once, as he got ready for primary combat school. But she'd thought that kind of life just wasn't for her at all and gently rejected the offer.

"That surprisingly cute, but questionable look on your face is all I needed to know that you want to ask me something." Noir nodded, the corner of his lips quirked up from successfully making his shorter, white-haired friend roll her eyes from the word _cute_. "So to explain… yes, you've been ten minutes late and this part of the program couldn't be delayed any further else we face the wrath of a certain boss man. No one's willing to wait for you. Obviously."

"Ouch, and thanks for that," Sterling said with a grimace. Of course they'd find a replacement; she wasn't special. But that didn't mean good things for her reputation in the work field. "My head's going to roll for this tomorrow, isn't it? Me and my big mouth."

"I have it on good authority that it won't." A knowing smile.

She furrowed her brows and made a suspicious glare. "Whose authority?"

"Mine. Because I covered for you."

Sterling blinked. The words were having a difficult time registering themselves in her brain because the darned thing couldn't accept that statement with ease, either. "Oh."

Noir was never nice on a whim.

"Best we avoid a mental breakdown," Noir added with a smile. A genuine one. "You seem frazzled enough as it is, and we don't get to meet often anymore."

 _Because I'm too busy with my work and you with yours_ , Sterling added in her mind.

But no, seriously. She wasn't even asking for help this time. But he did so, anyway. That was something she never expected at all.

First, there was her sudden magic powers or whatever it was called. And now, this. What was up with today when the rest of her days had been nothing but normal for Remnant standards?

"…Noir Valentine, are you actually being _kind_ to me?" Sterling raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Because if you are, those ladies behind you might just kill me in my sleep."

He chuckled and motioned for her to follow him to a more desirable spot in the ballroom where they'd have a better spot to talk without disturbing the audience and the singer's performance. And a better reach for the glasses ready to be filled with wine.

Sterling was quick to follow, but not after giving the women a jaunty wave that ended up being an awkward one. Now they looked downright murderous. Oops.

"And that's why I'm a Huntsman and you'll be fine the next day. Protecting those who couldn't protect themselves and all that," he said. And before Sterling could object about how she wasn't some damsel in distress, he added, "Though, admittedly, if not for my parents' insistence, I wouldn't be here. It's a small sacrifice to make to keep them nice and quiet for a short while."

Yep, he definitely loved his current job.

...On the other hand, was it really that bad if she wasn't a Huntress, as many other people of her situation would have most likely become? Like, sure, survival was the most important because blah blah blah Remnant was _dangerous_ and that was very true and the local newspapers never failed to cover Grimm-related deaths. But it's not like she ventured out of the city's walls or sought out Grimm just to get herself munched on. Atlas had a freaking _army_ to protect everyone, too, if the Huntsmen and Huntresses weren't enough.

And mountains. Lots and lots of them that no Grimm managed to get past them without trying their hardest.

Basically, she was as safe as she could get. And with no interference to what was "canon," things would happen the way they should and the happy ending would someday come.

"Please. You couldn't even protect yourself from the women who keep hounding you." She had her own smirk in play.

"Can't be helped if I'm that charming," was his quick and easy answer. He smiled as she frowned in an I-don't-believe-that sort of way. "Anyway, forgetting about our banter for a moment… someone was looking for you earlier."

Who on Remnant would even be looking for someone like her? Unless… no, that was stupid. Assuming something impossible would just inflate her ego. Sterling's expression shifted to a more serious, but curious one.

"Someone I know?"

"Not at all. Unless you know of a girl with straight, shoulder length brown hair, a light brown complexion—someone from down south, it seems—and a pair of brown eyes, about this tall,"—he gestured to the space far above her; Sterling was more on the shorter side—"then you definitely don't. I'm fairly certain the complexion's enough of a giveaway; very few Atlesians are remotely tan, let alone dark-skinned unless they've migrated from the southern kingdoms. She does have a nice voice, though. Shame I never got the name."

Curious and curiouser. "Did they tell you why?"

"Not at all. It seemed quite urgent, though. But after I saw you arrive and I tried looking for her, _she_ was gone." He shrugged. "Well, it can't be helped. If she's indeed in need of you, she'll come to you before you can even think of coming to her. I'd suggest just waiting. Even if you hate surprises."

"I don't really have any choice but to do so," Sterling said. And after considering the lingering thought in her mind about her suddenly taking her leave in the middle of a conversation earlier, she sighed and gave in. "Anyway, I'm sorry for running out on you. I just felt terrible all of a sudden."

"That's alright. I believe I've tormented you enough that you deserve some leeway." He winked. "But rest assured, that continues the next time I'm back in the city. Let's just enjoy Miss Schnee's birthday celebration for now."

 _Thank goodness._

"Gladly."

"But, you also owe me an eventual explanation for earlier."

And confess that she had suddenly changed from being a girl who wanted to maintain a life of normalcy despite her… situation… to someone who might be forced to live the kind of life she thought wasn't for her? When she'd already been successful about her own Operation: Gone Native and expected a conflict-less life while the "main story events" happened in the background?

"…Not a chance." She paused. And considered. "Well, on second thought, maybe someday."

Of course, just as Sterling was about to completely forget what happened earlier and enjoy the rest of the evening, just as Weiss Schnee finished the last remaining lyrics of her song, she started overhearing a strange conversation topic from another couple nearby.

Something about a thick layer of frost spreading from one washroom stall until it froze the entire location itself. And that they managed to get away before things got too unbearably cold and they became human popsicles. Also, something about the fact that there was totally going to be a complaint about this because _someone_ might have had too much fun with Dust.

A chill—pun so unintended—went down her spine and she was very certain her face had gone paler than it already was on a normal day.

Forget her original plan! It was time to skedaddle.

"On second thought," Sterling said, though she didn't feel too aware of the words coming out of her mouth. "I think I'll retire early for the night. I feel sick again."

"If it's really that terrible, you should have said so and I wouldn't have made light of it," Noir said, now concerned. "I'll walk you home—I still know the way."

Talk about a case of bad timing. She'd have gladly accepted the offer so she could reconnect with the guy, but right now...

Oh boy, was that the buzz of conversation starting to grow louder and louder? Sounds like there were more people starting to listen in to the couple's complaints and expressing their own thoughts... None that were positive.

 _Ahahahah_ _… I'm screwed_. Sterling swallowed.

"I'll be fine on my own." Sterling grinned. Awkwardly. She was trying to push down her rising panic. She was so absorbed in doing so, she didn't even give Noir a chance to say anything. She just turned away and, maybe _too casually_ that it seemed nigh exaggerated, sauntered off until she was out of the room and en route to the great, relieving outdoors. And then she walked home. Briskly.

After reaching the comforts of her home, she'd made sure that all doors were locked and secure and all lights were shut off.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

During the week that passed after her request for a break from work was accepted, Sterling had pretty much reduced herself to a hermit by staying indoors as much as possible and minimizing contact with everyone else (except with Noir, the persistent jerk). She was glad that the whole incident hadn't made it to the papers—or worse—if the lack of any interesting news headline were of any indication, but she knew she wasn't completely out of the woods just yet.

Not until she'd figured out why, all of a sudden, she was suddenly filled with magical juice ready to be spilled at the most inopportune moments.

Sterling decided she'd done enough pretending as a "bedridden" patient and rolled out of bed, smoothing out the nightclothes she had yet to change out of. She reached for her pair of glasses on the bedside drawer, watched her blurry vision clear, and nodded to herself.

A plan. She needed a plan. Even a crappy one.

She hummed. Okay. So. She was due to return to work soon… or at least hint that she hadn't died yet. If she didn't fix this certain problem, stat, there was going to be trouble. So her next plan of attack was...

Damage control. Yes. She needed to do some damage control. It was bad enough that the other day she'd nearly made the book she was reading spontaneously burst into flames after one wild assumption too many. And she could have sworn she was _floating_ for one second after she'd gotten tripped by her bag on the floor.

(She was certain now that she hadn't been bitten by a radioactive bug or something. Her poor, poor book, though.)

She navigated around the cluttered mess that was her bedroom, the result of an inability to focus on housework from being too busy with work (she could almost swear her SDC bosses were slave-drivers), made worse by that strong gust of wind coming from nowhere after waking from a nightmare two nights ago.

A plan, a plan, a plan…

Find a way to put a handle on these powers. Get help if someone's suffering from the same thing. Hope not to end up in a containment facility somewhere deep underground—if it existed. That didn't sound too bad.

Sterling sighed. On the other hand, she didn't even know _how_. Something told her that getting this discovery out in the open would lead to bad things. Very, very bad things.

She'd kill to remember right now everything she used to know about _RWBY: The Show_ from her past life. For some reason she only remembered bits and pieces. Some names, a few blurry faces, and information that were oftentimes at the tip of her tongue, only to surface once it was staring at her in the face.

Fuzzy memories sucked, especially when so many things had happened to keep them that way.

"You were better off still alive in your past life, kiddo," she couldn't help but mutter to herself as she made her way to the living room. Which wasn't even that far because she owned a studio-type house and the only way it was distinguished from the small kitchen, bathroom, dining room, and bedroom was the long sofa, the small table, and the floor carpet decorating that part of her home.

If she hadn't died from food poisoning, she wouldn't be in this situation.

 _If she hadn_ _'t died_ , then she would have been living her life carelessly like everyone else. Not wondering if her every action resulted to a ripple-like effect to everything on Remnant. Maybe she might be slowly rotting from an office job and probably trying to get out of poverty, too, but it sure beat waiting day after day for that specific news when shit finally started hitting the fan.

Earth, in comparison, didn't even have any of this strange hybrid of sci-fi and fantasy either.

Gosh darn it. How on Remnant was this problem going to fix itself? She could definitely use some kind of deus ex machina right now—

 _Ding dong_.

Sterling paused, her gaze falling on the shut door.

She wasn't expecting any visitors today.

 _Ding dong_ , went her doorbell again. This time, it somehow managed to sound more insistent. Sheesh.

Shrugging and deciding that she couldn't avoid everyone forever, she walked towards the door with a line prepared if the visitor so happened to be someone who thought she'd gone completely off the radar. Then there was a twist of the doorknob, and then a pull, revealing…

Revealing…

Huh. Sterling couldn't help but stare.

It was the woman that matched Noir's description. Straight, shoulder length brown hair, equally brown eyes, and a light brown complexion—with a beauty mark under her left eye, something Noir apparently decided wasn't important enough to take note of. Except this time she wore a green cloak on top of what was unmistakably an attire suited for traveling, not for daily city life.

 _A pang of familiarity. An image of a cloaked woman handing down an apple to a little girl before realizing it was all a deception._

"Hi, there. Can I help you?" Sterling decided to say before she blurted out anything that made her seem like a potential asylum patient. Soon, though, it was going to be difficult keeping her heart rate down and her face from sweating. Even on a chilly day.

There was just something about this situation that made her feel like nothing was going to be the same soon after.

...Wasn't that strange? All it took was one event to completely flip things over. Just one event, making not just ripples, but gigantic waves.

The woman smiled. "As a matter of fact, yes. You're Sterling Yin, right?"

Aaaaand, she knew her name. And last name, apparently. The look on her face must've told the woman of the oddity of that question, because then she sheepishly added, "I heard your name from that man last week. I'm sorry if that made me come off as a stalker!"

"You're being weird right now, but… okay, I think I'll just believe you." Just so this was completely dealt with. "So… care to, um, tell me all about this visit? Because I'm very certain I've never met you before and I don't remember being subscribed to anything that needs payment, either."

"Let me in first, and we'll talk." At the way Sterling's eyes narrowed in suspicion, the woman's widened as she realized the implication of her words. "Oh, no, I don't mean to start robbing you! Never. It's just that the words I have for you can't exactly be expressed out in the open."

"That's worsening your case, not making it better," Sterling pointed out.

"Yeah… I'm bad at this," the woman admitted. She sighed. "Well. Anyway. I promise I'm just here to talk. Let's just say... I know what you're going through."

Sterling stared at the woman.

The woman, confidently and readily, stared back.

If there was a good hook in existence, it was definitely this. Consider herself the fish that couldn't ignore the dangling bait.

She swung open the door wider, gesturing for the woman to enter. Apparently, she didn't need to say anything along the lines of _make yourself at home, stranger._ The woman was quick to walk past her and plop down the sofa to relax her tired feet.

Struck speechless from the woman's behavior, Sterling decided to just shut the door.

"Sorry. It's been a really tiring day and the sofa was just so very inviting. I'm Amber, by the way." Amber grinned. It actually made her look much more youthful, even though she wasn't really that old in the first place. "So, going back to this whole cloak-and-dagger stuff—sorry about that—you probably have a lot of questions about the sudden existence of your… uh, let's call it your powers."

"Powers. Right." After ensuring that no one was walking down this particular street through a moment of peeking behind shut curtains, Sterling moved to sit cross-legged on the carpet before belatedly realizing she was wearing a dress. That she hadn't changed out of. She opted for the nearby stool instead, after fighting off her sudden embarrassment while wondering where her manners had gone. "I don't even know how you just _knew_."

Amber shrugged. "Well, it's kind of like a sixth sense. Same way a faunus would knows his speaking buddy's just like him even if her animal parts are completely hidden." She grinned sheepishly. "And honestly, I wouldn't even have known if I wasn't in the vicinity, scouting. For, you know, the next person who inherited the powers you now have." She frowned for a second. "God, you have no idea how hard it was to snag an invite for that party. Especially when I didn't know whether that had been waste of time or not!"

She had half a mind to ask how Amber got into a _private_ party, but you know what? She didn't want to know. "Inherited?"

"Well, yeah. That's how the cycle usually goes. The powers you now have? It passes from host to host upon death. In fact, it's been that way for thousands of years... Or so I've been told. Anyway. Under normal circumstances, the host, who is always a female, gets to choose who those powers go to by thinking of that person, right at that moment before she finally dies," Amber explained. "But sometimes, the person in her dying thoughts doesn't fit the set of standards required—like, if you're male, too old, or just plain ineligible—and the powers just go to someone random. The latter is exactly what happened to you."

"And how do you know all that? How should I know this isn't some elaborate scheme to make people think I'm crazy with a capital C?"

Amber smiled knowingly, opened a palm, and summoned a ball of fire.

Sterling's jaw dropped.

Okay, then. Consider herself a believer.

But at the same time, something occurred to her. Again—there was that pang of familiarity. More intense than before, giving her some major deja vu vibes. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what Amber was going to say next.

"A-and for me, this means?"

For a moment, Amber considered how she was going to break the news to her. She even gazed up at the ceiling, crossing her arms and tapping her chin with a finger. But then, seconds later, she gave up and just dropped the news like it was nobody's business.

"It means congratulations are in order. You are now the new Winter Maiden. And I'm Autumn, the welcoming committee," Amber said with the faintest hints of a smirk, arms crossed. But then that faded away, replaced by a more serious expression as she straightened up from her previous slouch. "But now, honey, you might want to start packing. And soon. We don't have a lot of time, we've got people to meet, and we've definitely got a lot of training to do if you don't want a disaster on your hands."

 _Because_ , her mind told her it finally hit her, _being a Maiden means that not only have you gained a crapton of power levels, but you'll also have people willing to go through hell and back just to snatch them away from you._

Spring.

Summer.

Autumn.

And Winter.

The four Maidens of Remnant. A fairytale that turned out not to be a fairytale at all. _And she was a part of one now_.

 **"What?"**

Sterling Yin promptly decided that she would very much prefer to have stayed dead, after all.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so. Plot bunny. What if I wrote about a self-insert who's "gone native?" Someone who's fully adapted to life in a different world with no intention of messing around, only to end up exactly where she didn't want to be? I thought of deviating from the whole 'starting from scratch' concept of reincarnation when it comes to SI's, and this is the result.

I swear, this is very experimental on my part, so I hope I do well. Especially when we know so little about the Maidens and we're just pretty early on in Volume 4 (also, that recent episode made me cry like a baby). Sterling probably sounds Mary Sue(ish) right now due to what's revealed in the chapter, but I hope she actually isn't because I tried my best not to make her come out as perfect.

(Also, I actually enjoyed writing Amber's lines. Nice to have some freedom in her characterization because she's technically only a plot device in the canon. So far. XD)

I hope to hear what your thoughts are about this story! I'm still learning to write better as I go on, so feedback's extremely welcome.


	2. In Which a Decision is Made

**NOTE:** As previously stated from the chapter this one replaced, I was looking to rewrite this into something more acceptable. Being busy with my internship meant I hardly had the brain capacity to write to the best of my ability, but now that's dealt with, here's the final version. It's essentially the same thing, but with a few tiny details added in. Hopefully it's just as good as the last version, if not better!

Also, for existing reviewers, just PM me what you think (if there's any thoughts about it) instead of trying to write a review anonymously (because of the whole _you can only review once per chapter as an account_ thing. Thank you for reading!

 **II**

* * *

 **In Which a Decision is Made**

 _I can already taste the regret._

* * *

Once upon a time, Sterling's mother, in a rare moment when the woman had been less of a workaholic and more of a parent, had told the then-five-year-old that she was a special little girl. So special that, if Sterling put her mind into it, she could do anything she wanted—even rattle the stars. And if anyone thought otherwise, well, those bastards could go hang (her mother hadn't been watching her words).

After today, though, Sterling was pretty sure Mama never meant she'd be special in _this_ way.

Suspending her disbelief for dying and being reborn into Remnant was one thing. But becoming a Maiden? Someone may as well write her out of the story known as her current life.

"Okay, stop. _Stop_ ," Sterling said, raising her hands in front of her before Amber, still seated on the sofa, could say a whole lot more. "Pardon me, but you both had _and_ lost me at the word 'Maiden.'"

"But it's the truth." From the way Amber's eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened, she wasn't expecting a reaction like this. "Why would you even deny it when you've basically had the impossible happen to you?"

"Two things. One"—she raised her index finger—"I might suddenly be some kind of magical girl, but don't you think a Maiden is still stretching things? Last I checked, this whole Maiden fantasy is restricted to fairy tales. Which brings me to two"—there went her middle finger, joining the first one and forming a V sign—"I swear to God this is like something out of a Harry Potter book and I'm about to be taken to Diagon Alley."

There was a blank look on Amber's face.

"…Harry who?"

A pause. Some blinking. A realization. And then, a hasty backtracking.

"Never mind. My point is, you're going too fast, too furious, and I'm just this teeny-tiny snail who's trying to catch up to all this info you're giving me!" She gestured helplessly. Actually, it would be more accurate to say she was flailing her arms. "I don't even think I can do what you're telling me to do."

"Oh, really?" Amber asked. More like yelled in incredulity, if the pitch of her voice went any higher. "You're lucky enough that nobody's caught on to what you've just done after last week's spectacle. The damage control was hell, I'll have you know."

"Hey—"

"More importantly, think about it: two Maidens in one place? I don't know about you, honey, but that's asking for a Remnant doomsday." She crossed her arms. The expression on her face said it all: that was _not_ what anyone would need right now. Or anytime in the future.

Sterling considered the young woman's words. That was a good point, actually. If she and Amber were the figurative two birds struck down with a single stone, the ones their powers go to would most likely start making the world their playing before they broke it to pieces. That was not a good mental image.

But still.

She had a point to make.

She shot up from the stool she sat on. In fact, she'd done it so quickly, so strongly, the poor thing toppled over and crashed down on the floor—on her _tiled_ floor.

She didn't flinch.

…Okay, well, inwardly, she did; the sound the crash resembled was that of a raccoon being thrown through a window. In other words, an unpleasant thing to hear. Or for her precious tiles to experience.

(She hoped there weren't any cracks.)

"I understand. This whole thing is important." Sterling pushed on, regardless. She took a step towards Amber. "Top priority. Critical. But, you have to understand, I need a moment to _think_. To process all of this. I can't just drop everything because you asked me to!"

"Did you miss the part where I mentioned this is roughly the equivalent of traversing through a Grimm-infested forest while feeling depressed?"

She didn't get that analogy at once—until she remembered that basic lesson, during Remnant's equivalent of a high school, that the Grimm were attracted to negative emotions. Depression was something that counted as one of the extreme ones a person could ever feel. It was ranked right up there with hatred. And to a Grimm? That was one of the sweetest nectars it could suck on.

Regardless…

"Hey." She pointed a finger. "Now you're just being unfair, you jerk. At risk of sounding melodramatic, you've basically just broken _my_ world into two, split it into itty-bitty pieces, and scattered it to the winds like it was a bunch of confetti."

The two ended up looking at each other in the eye. It was the kind of scene that could have been immortalized in a book; the intensity of the atmosphere was practically through the roof, and all it would take was one sudden movement before things shifted to total pandemonium.

But somehow, the seconds ticked merrily, obliviously by. And after enough time had passed—

Amber exhaled. Conceded. Melted back into the sofa she was still sitting on. "Fine, you have point. That wasn't the smartest move I've ever made. Sorry."

Sterling let her hands fall to her sides. "Apology accepted. So if you'll be so kind as to let me think about what _my_ next course of action will be, that would be super, fantastically wonderful." She turned on her heel, making her way to the bedroom. "I need just a moment. Or two. I'll get back to you."

For a moment, it looked as if the twenty-two-year-old was going to plop down on her bed, place back against the living room (studio-type house, remember?), and proceed to mull over her next course of action. But then, nope, that wasn't the case at all. Instead, she tiptoed around her messy bedroom as she approached her cabinet, pulled it open, and took out a set of clothes to change into.

A thick, long-sleeved dress, tights, a scarf, and… after some consideration, the jacket hanging on the wall. And a pair of boots that made her wallet cry for days. She took the set with her to the bathroom. Well, minus the boots—that was the last thing she'll wear.

Sure, you could say that, maybe, she was going overboard with the winter wear when the populated portions of the kingdom were kept warm by Dust-fueled heating systems. But she was just too used to the way she dressed for a wintry day in her past life that she didn't bother changing that in her current life.

Plus, she looked good in those clothes. And they matched the bow on her head.

"I thought you were going to take just a moment?" Amber asked just before Sterling could slide the glass door open. "You look more like you're taking a trip."

"I am." Sterling grabbed the metallic handle and pulled. "But correction: I'm taking a walk. I need to clear my mind and that's not happening here."

Amber looked like she was going to object but thought otherwise. "Fine, but where are you going?"

"Just on one of my usual haunts." Sterling tilted her head slightly as she took note of Amber's expression and her ready-to-tackle-someone-away-from-the-door stance; her legs were poised to propel her from the sofa and her upper body was tense as hell. "Geez, don't look so alarmed! There's a reason why Atlas is the safest kingdom among the other three. Have you _seen_ how secure this place is?"

It was true. And for several reasons.

For one, there was the Atlas military. Stiff, overly-formal, and unfamiliar with the concept of 'letting loose,' but they kept the kingdom's crime rate low and Grimm at bay.

For another, the massive technological advances and the equally neat Dust tricks that the kingdom had accomplished meant that this place was as fortified as it could be. That led to military power becoming an all-time high in status, all thanks to the most brilliant minds the kingdom had to offer. Sterling was fairly certain she'd seen a hell lot more androids and Dust-powered machinery than any normal, non-Atlesian person would have in a day. And they were super effective in dealing with the natural threats all around Atlas.

Of course, the local Huntsmen and Huntresses helped, too. Played a big role, even. But they were a given. A norm. They helped maintain the peace, killed the Grimm, and was everyone's hero every day—it was their job.

"Didn't stop that White Fang attack I've heard about several years ago…"

It was only a mutter. Soft enough to be missed… if it weren't for Sterling having excellent hearing.

For a split second, she froze. Her mind was suddenly filled with memories she thought she'd already gotten rid of. Flashes of images. Pangs of phantom aches. Enough to overcome her? Almost, had she not recovered and opted with simply going ahead and shrugging it all off before they did.

 _Best not think about that right now_.

The door slid shut with a scraping sound filling the air before it was cut short by a soft click, emerging from the bathroom several minutes later. She'd like to think the swift change was an acquired skill after one too many mornings when she woke up late and dressed up at roughly the speed of light trying to get to work on time.

Fine, so she had a problem concerning tardiness in the past. But she managed to change for the better! Um, kind of.

"Just stay here if you don't feel like going anywhere. Make yourself a cup of cocoa, watch some shows on the television, or… do whatever a Maiden does on her spare time," Sterling said as she picked up her purse, too. She gave Amber a reassuring, though slightly awkward smile. "But please don't break anything. Thank you. I'll be back soon, I promise. And"—she raised a hand as she caught the hints of another outburst from Amber—"I know. I think I've got a lid on my powers right now. Female intuition at work, I guess?"

She shrugged after mulling it over for a second. "Yup. Probably. Peace out."

The thing about hasty exits, Sterling thought as she gained as much distance as she could in a matter of seconds, was that it prevented the person against it from doing anything to change the situation. It meant getting away scott-free—at least for the time being—and being rid of any loud objections because she wouldn't be there to hear them. There was a good chance Amber could catch up to her, but Sterling liked to think she was a betting woman. _She could try_.

It was probably her being a coward, but she just wanted to have a moment to herself so she could _think_. Leave, or stay? Accept what fate had in store or her, or reject it to her dying breath?And if she picked option A, what to do next? Etcetera, etcetera. There were so many things to consider because she'd established so much and she was about to cut and run without taking any of them with.

So if Amber still didn't understand that, she could—sorry for this—go take a nice, long hike.

Sterling's brisk walk lasted several yards before, finally, she slowed down to a more comfortable pace. She sighed in relief and took a moment to appreciate the presence of the sun shining overhead, contributing more warmth to what the heating systems were already giving (she felt a stab of regret the moment her body decided it didn't feel warm; it felt hot, but now it was too late for her to come back).

As a matter of fact, that same sun made all the white-colored buildings surrounding her shine like the snow already did. Granted, there weren't much of them because this happened to be the residential—and the nice, non-busy—part of the city. But! She'll be damned if she thought they didn't look nice and sleek and pretty and showed what incredible technological advances could do to a city. It was like reading a sci-fi novel for one second and looking up to suddenly find all those things turned into reality in front of her.

Ladies and gentlemen, the kingdom of Atlas in all its glory.

Well, _part_ of the kingdom of Atlas.

But while she wanted to admire all those and more, especially the floating airships way up high in the sky that (this dimmed her enthusiasm a bit) filled the silence with their machines' roars, she didn't have the luxury to do so. Not even enough to watch in awe as she neared an amphitheater and noticed an ongoing demonstration of the new creations Atlas' R&D team came up with.

No. Seriously. Whatever that prototype was, it looked really _cool_ and _menacing_ _—_ wait, what was she thinking? There were more important things to think about.

The awe on her place was kicked out of the way by a worried frown.

What the heck was she going to do about her _maidenly_ problem?

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

Half an hour later, the answer she'd come up with was a very eloquent _I don_ _'t freaking know_.

Passing by the pointy-looking light post at the corner marked the fourth time she'd circled around the only park existing within the vicinity of the residential area. The park which, unfortunately, was more home to artificial decorations (fountains, statues, light posts) than the usual greenery you'd expect when you heard the word "park." On the flipside, the calm, quiet atmosphere—most people at this time of the day were still at work or, in regards to the kids, still in school—of the location was what Sterling loved about the place…

Except that it totally didn't help her any, because despite getting to have her own thoughts to herself, no matter how she flipped her situation over and over she couldn't come to an acceptable solution. There was no outcome that she liked. At all.

Sterling sighed and plopped down on the nearest bench for some well-deserved rest. Might as well; her leg muscles were starting to feel the burn from her walk. She took a moment to relax herself and went back to thinking over her issue again. There has to be some comprise there, somewhere.

Okay. So. From the way she saw it, she only had two answers to Amber's proposition: _yes,_ or _no_.

Let's deal with the affirmative first. If she said yes, that meant she had no choice not just to abandon the life she'd made for herself, but to also commit to being involved in the very thing she'd been wanting to avoid: the "canon" storyline of what used to be an animated show. Maidens seemed to be a pretty big deal in the world of Remnant, and with that large role suddenly thrust upon her…

Sterling swallowed.

She remembered having read enough stories to know that that was not going to bode well for her. At all.

Saying yes also meant she was just going to have to live with the fact that she was the unlucky winner of the Maiden lottery. She'll have to learn how to better control her powers, to learn to survive outside the kingdoms, and worse, learn to deal with the people whom would soon, _somehow_ , find out about her "situation" and try to take said power by force.

By _murder_.

Yup, she had no choice but to also learn the art of combat to defend herself. After all, she was going to end up being targeted anyway by the big, bad villain whose name was at the tip of her tongue. Either she survive the ordeal maidenhood brought her…

Or she died.

Sterling Yin was _not_ about to seek death anytime soon, though. Not when she could still hear in her mind the screeching tires and the bending metal, feel the shock of agony and the warm, trickling blood on her face. This she knew, at least.

If it _had_ to happen, however, she just hoped that her successor was someone far more worthy of the role than her cowardly butt.

Anyway. On the other hand, if she said no and refused to leave Atlas, there might be a chance that Amber and her associates—she knew the woman had them—would either force her to come, or if she had to be hopeful, try to educate her while maintaining the secrecy for as long as they could. If the latter happened, she'll get to live her life just like before and continue where she left off.

Well, except that she had this whole Maiden issue added to the equation. No doubt that was going to be a tough ride. But if she could handle the problems she used to have in her past life, she could handle this.

Problem was, doing that was the equivalent of walking across a tightrope. It was going to be difficult, and the resulting fall was _not_ going to be pleasant. Sure, Sterling would feel better knowing that whatever happened down south, she had no part in it, but… at what cost? And it wasn't like she could just surrender what she had now. There was no returning it to the sender with a neat, little bow on top.

She was stuck with her Maiden status, whether she liked it or not.

She… had no choice but to accept that this was all what fate had in store for her, huh?

Sterling exhaled. She could deal with this. She had to deal with this or… or die trying. She had to be strong. To face this with the kind of confidence and calmness that came naturally to a true, blue Schnee. She'd dealt with those nightmarish days during her infancy, she could deal with this!

After all, there couldn't be anything worse than spending months within the confines of a crib, with a body that didn't work the way she wanted and a confused mind that tried to blend the past with the present. To be a _baby,_ with the helplessness and defenselessness that came along with the package.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. In. Out. In, and out—

"Sal-u-tations!"

Sterling blinked, her thoughts suddenly thrust back to reality. While it was to her credit that she didn't jump from her seat or anything—as that would've been _so_ embarrassing—she must've been so out of it that she didn't realize someone had approached her.

In front of her stood a freckled girl—a teenager, from the looks of it, with bright, innocent green eyes, a sunny smile, and a head of short, curly, orange hair.

For some reason, the girl regarded Sterling like she was the most interesting thing since sliced bread. It was almost unsettling at the way her wide eyes were on her, unmoving and unblinking.

"Can I help you, miss?" Sterling decided to ask before her mind started to wander again. She was so surprised by the girl that she didn't even think twice about using the courteous tone she usually adopted around people in high society.

Being related to the Schnees did that to a person. Darned formalities were infectious.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking!" the girl responded. Also, there was something musical about her tone of voice. And Sterling wasn't being poetic—it really resembled something like a series of auto-tuned notes. Pleasant to the ears, yet somewhat artificial.

Weird. No, _suspicious_.

And she was still staring at her.

"I am… glad to hear that." Sterling decided she was just going to consider today as her strangest day ever and leave it at that. "Is there any reason you decided to approach me, then?"

"I was practicing my walking over there"—she pointed to the other side of the park—"and then I saw you over here. I recognized your face because I saw you much, much earlier. You were frowning," the girl said. A look of concern formed on her face, and she tilted her head. "Why were you frowning?"

 _Practicing her_ _… walking?_ Sterling repeated the voice inside her head. Now that she thought about it, it sounded strangely... familiar. Whom did it remind her of?

Anyway, she was asked a question, wasn't she? It'd be impolite not to answer.

"Because…" Sterling tried to find the right words. "I'm just deep in thought about something. That's all. You don't have to be so concerned. I'll be fine!"

The resulting grin on her face looked so strained that she was clearly _not_ fine.

"Is it about a boy?"

Blink, blink. "…Say what?"

"Oh, I see!" The girl nodded with much enthusiasm. "It's about a girl."

"Now wait just a moment there—"

"I'm sure you'll be able to solve it eventually!" the girl carried on, oblivious to the look of growing incredulity on Sterling's face. "Whoever she is, she's really lucky to have you thinking about her so much."

"Okaaaaay, this is where I draw that nice, little line and you need to stop talking right now," Sterling said, raising a hand that the girl then blinked at. She withdrew said hand and awkwardly readjusted her glasses. "I don't think we're even acquainted enough for, uh, such personal conversations."

That was a _very_ diplomatic way of putting it.

"Of course! I can't believe I forgot. It's very nice to meet you. My name is—"

"Penny!"

Both turned their head to the new visitor.

And Sterling thought her day had just taken an even stranger turn. All she could do was watch as General James _freakin_ ' Ironwood approach with a few Atlesian soldiers in tow. As the girl (who _isn_ _'t_ a real girl, a part of her mind told her as realization sank in and a distant memory resurfaced), Penny, gave a friendly little wave back the moment she recognized who they were.

No. Seriously. There was no mistaking the man for anyone else. Not with such a fine-looking attire fit for a man of his position. And the strip of metal above his right eyebrow.

Sterling might have stood up from the bench a little too quickly for her liking, as if the thing was suddenly pulsing with electricity and she narrowly avoided a nasty shock. She fought back the urge to awkwardly rub the back of her neck and clasped her hands behind her. She couldn't do anything about her heart rate, though.

"General Ironwood, sir," she greeted.

They've crossed paths once or twice before, all thanks to those events that the SDC held or were major sponsors of. But they never really had a chance to interact like this until now.

The general-slash-headmaster sent a polite her way. "Miss… Schnee, isn't it?"

"It's Yin, actually," Sterling corrected with just the right amount of respect. "Sir."

Sterling wasn't all that surprised that such a mild mistake was going to be made. It wasn't like her father, Rowan Yin, was around to make sure that the surname stuck. That was to say, he'd died before Sterling was even born so, regrettably, he'd barely had a chance to exist much as a father and a husband to her mother. He was a Huntsman; it wasn't hard to know what his cause of death was.

And her mother, well, with her being one of the daughters of Nicholas Schnee, the SDC founder, it just went to say that it would always be her family name that ended up being of remembrance.

Sterling probably should have gotten the Schnee surname instead, but then it was a good thing that she didn't at the same time. Mama just loved Papa so much that she wanted her daughter to take up his surname no matter what. As a remembrance.

(She supposed it was an exaggeration of hers to refer to herself as someone on the far side of the family tree when she was generally in vicinity of the main branch. It kept her humble, so she stuck with it.)

"Miss Yin, then." He nodded, first at her, and then at Penny, who joined the soldiers after directing one last grin (and a wave) at Sterling. "I apologize if she's been disturbing you. She wasn't supposed to leave our sight, yet it looks like curiosity has gotten the better of her."

"Well, she's been nice, but she kind of… needs to observe one's personal space." She discreetly noted that other than she and General Ironwood's group, there weren't any other people around. "I'm going to proceed to assume that anything _specific_ about Penny here is classified and our meeting, erm, could've gone a little better."

"So you're aware." There was no mistaking the sudden intensity in his eyes, subtle as it were. "I was hoping she blended in well enough."

Aware because of what she knew were her old memories informing her of things she wasn't supposed to know. Sterling didn't know what level of clearance one had to have to be aware of the specifics, but she was pretty sure Penny was somewhere waaaay up high.

After all, the world probably wasn't ready to acknowledge the existence of an android that could generate an Aura. An android so life-like, so full of soul, she was practically a human being. Could bring all sorts of morality issues into play.

She couldn't believe she'd actually forgotten about Penny, though.

"Well, this _is_ Atlas, sir. I'd be surprised if technology isn't moving forward day by day." She offered a reassuring smile. "But don't worry! I know very little. Enough to know _what_ , but not enough to know what _exactly_." And, a bit dryly, she added, "Although, nobody in their right mind tells a stranger they're 'practicing' their walking, among other things."

"There are still several areas she needs to improve on. I can admit that, at least," he said with a small smile of his own. Sterling was almost willing to describe him as being relieved the moment she gave her answer. "But because you seem to understand the situation, I trust that you'll keep what you know to yourself until further notice?"

 _Now_ she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. "After today, I'm fairly certain I know what's at stake if secrets come out. You have my word."

If there was a time in her entire life that her family name was a huge benefit, it was this. Going back on a promise wouldn't mean well not just for her, but for everyone she was associated with. What other answer could she give other than an "I promise?"

For a minute, it seemed as if General Ironwood was gauging her. Evaluating how genuine the promise was. Sterling almost felt like a kid again and fought off the urge to bow her head and shuffle her feet.

 _Please don't be suspicious. Please don't be suspicious..._

She should really be rewarded for her ability to keep one hell of a poker face in time of need. General Ironwood then broke the near-glacial stare and gave a polite nod.

"Good. Well, then, don't let me keep you any longer. If you'll excuse us—and again, pardon our intrusion." The general moved to turn around to order his men back to… uh, wherever they came from. Sterling didn't know.

"Wait," Sterling blurted out before she could realize what she'd just done. _Oh God, I wasn_ _'t supposed to, but it's too late now_ , she thought as the man paused. "I just have one question, nothing related to Penny. Just… something I need an outside opinion on."

"Ask away," General Ironwood said.

Here goes nothing.

"Let's say, hypothetically, there's a decision you have to make but you know what would come out of it isn't anything good," she began. "I mean, would you face the consequences of that decision head-on, or would you just… try to find some kind of loophole or something similar to, let's say, soften the blow?"

Sterling was expecting a response deep as an ocean or as wise as could be since it came from a very respected person. She expected to feel better the moment she heard it, and she'd envisioned herself come back to her house with a solid resolve because the answer just made _so much sense_ and she was a dummy for not having realized it.

Those weren't what she got at all.

"I believe you already have an answer to that, Miss Yin," General Ironwood said. For a moment, she could have almost thought there was this knowinglook on his face. Like he was already in on something she wasn't aware of. But it was gone by the time she wanted to confirm it.

"That wasn't what I was hoping to hear."

"I'm aware of that," he said. Almost _dryly_ , even. "But I trust that you'll make the right call and be one step ahead."

"Um…"

"You know what will be at stake, you know what you'll be getting into, and you either make that decision and maintain an advantage, or you don't and you completely lose control of the situation. Let's hope it doesn't to come to that." He nodded. "But know that you can always approach me if it's a matter of great import. These days it seems I often find myself within close vicinity of the Schnee family."

Sterling nodded; it was all she could do after hearing an offer that she didn't expect to get.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Miss Yin. Have a good day."

And just like that, he was gone.

Sterling shook her head and sighed after she was sure the group was far enough that they wouldn't notice so much as a wave. She turned on her heel, bent down to pick up her purse, and made her way back home.

Time to face the music.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

As it turned out, Amber _did_ make herself at home. When Sterling returned and hung up her jacket, the young woman was nursing a mug of hot cocoa by the small dining area. The look on her face was almost comical the moment she realized who was at the door. She bolted up from her chair and resembled a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You came back." She sounded almost awed.

"You weren't expecting me to abandon my house to a stranger, were you?" Sterling said. "I'm many things, but definitely not stupid. Sit back down and finish your drink—I'll be joining you shortly."

"And then you'll give me an answer?"

"And then I'll give you an answer."

Amber sat back down with relief she previously didn't have.

The twenty-two-year-old made a beeline for the counter and prepared her own mug of the tasty drink. Several minutes later, she was sitting across Amber and taking a sip of the blend she made. Mm, just the right of sweet and bitter.

Sterling lowered her mug.

Now, to business.

She clasped her hands on the table, straightened her body, and crossed her legs. At that moment, she resembled an interviewer, ready to grill into the latest job applicant.

"Look," she began. Amber looked up from her mug with increased attentiveness. "I know you mean well. But you have to realize, I really, really can't drop everything and run with you just because things got dangerous. See this house?" She gestured to her humble abode. "See these stuff that's in it? I'll admit this place became mine partly because of my mother, but the rest of it was the fruition of _my_ effort. I spent sleepless nights just to finish the day's work, endured irritated men, women, and faunus daily, and one time I even cried from the pressure." She grinned. "But I got this far. Remember that man you came across last week?"

Amber nodded.

"He's an annoying pain in the butt most of the time, but he's my best friend." Sterling nodded. "Yup. Friends, and if I left them behind without any warning, I don't think I'll be able to sleep at night." She shook her head. "And if you still didn't get it, I've built a life here. For twenty-two years and running. I don't have the luxury to just… leave it all behind."

"But—"

A steely look from Sterling was all it took to keep the other young woman's mouth shut. If there had been any doubts before about Sterling's parentage, the sharp stare from her red eyes were enough to eliminate them. It was the kind that commanded silence and obedience, full of dignity and just the right amount of ice.

Satisfied, Sterling continued. "I understand that you've probably done the same thing. You being here, alone and forever wandering, is statement enough. But the thing is, I _know_ you can't have done that in the blink of an eye." Sterling paused, and considered. "Well, maybe you did; I'm not you. But all the same, you couldn't have dropped off from the face of Remnant without so much as a good-bye to the people you know. People would wonder otherwise, put up aaaaaall those missing persons posters, and no stone will be left unturned until they find you."

Sterling let the silence reign, hoping it was enough to let the consequences of such an action sink in: to be constantly sought was counterproductive to a Maiden's efforts of maintaining secrecy.

But then a strange look flash across Amber's face as it finally did. Was it guilt? Sadness? A mix of both?

Sterling never got to find out. However, there was no mistaking her unease as she squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

"That's true…" she admitted with much reluctance.

There was just no saying no to her maidenhood, in the end. Life had a tendency to make sure bad decisions blew up in one's face, so she knew she couldn't run away at all, even if she tried.

Plus, explosions were messy. Kind of like that watermelon Noir messed around with in the past as some kind of Dust experiment—whoops, she went off-track for a second there.

Think about it: wouldn't it be the major disaster of the millennium if something far worse than a frozen washroom happened?

Exactly.

There was no moving backward, only forward. And to try to be one step ahead, to make sure that she didn't end up being the punchline, but the one making the joke herself.

"So, if you'll just let me settle my affairs for a couple of days, that would be grand." Sterling then smiled. And it only got wider the moment Amber looked even more shocked than before. She was definitely expecting a different answer, wasn't she?

"So you're saying—"

"Yes. I'll come. But I'm coming on my own terms. I don't want to be hunted down for an entirely different reason just because I suddenly went missing. As the folks down south like to say, Mistral wasn't built in a day."

Amber's brows furrowed. "Even if you can't control your powers."

For a moment, a pang of doubt struck Sterling. It made her stomach do a little lurch. She bowed her head and stared at her hands, wondering when her next magical outburst was, and whether she could somehow BS her way out of it. But then she clenched her fists as confidence replaced the nasty feeling.

She could handle a day or two here without incident. If she could handle being in the same room as that unbearable uncle of hers, Jacques Schnee, _and_ stay employed in the company that had a shady business practice without ruffling a lot of feathers, she could handle being a Maiden.

She hoped.

"Yup. Even so."

Amber stared at her for a good five seconds before sighing in resignation and blowing at her bangs with puffed up cheeks. Sterling found the whole thing mildly amusing.

"Fine. It's not like I have any other choice. But if I were you, I'd make it quick," Amber said. "Remember, no matter how confident you are, it's all a matter of time before you start rolling snake eyes and we've got disaster served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I don't even know how people keep finding out our secret."

A dry smile. "With a lot of effort, I'm guessing."

Amber smiled a little bit and practically melted into her chair. "So that's that, I guess. By now, I'm pretty sure you want some privacy."

"Pretty much. So long as you've finished that cocoa."

"You were right about it being delicious," Amber admitted. "But before I meet my contact… Hmm."

Okay, there was something extremely odd about the way Amber was looking at her right now. She could almost see the cogs turning inside that head of hers, see her purpose reflected in those brown eyes.

Sterling suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Mind lying your arm on the table?"

Caught off-guard by the strange question, Sterling didn't think much about doing otherwise.

"Like this—owwww!"

She quickly retrieved her now-throbbing arm after Amber finally stopped pinching it. The glare she shot as she cradled the poor limb was absolutely murderous; it was a wonder the entire house hadn't frozen over.

"Have you lost your marbles, lady?"

"Nope, but I did confirm something," Amber replied. She almost sounded smug just then.

Still, her answer was enough to make Sterling pause from her next barrage of words. The twenty-two-year-old raised an eyebrow questioningly.

The brown-haired young woman pointed at the angry, red welt on Sterling's arm. "Your Aura's not unlocked."

"So what? You could've just asked if it was," Sterling said.

"Then I would have had to take your word for it and suffer the consequences if you lied," Amber shot back. Then she shook her head and stood up from her seat. "Okay. Fine. That wasn't my best attempt at making you trust me, but this time… trust me. Can you stand up?"

"If you promise not to do anything like that again." She stood up anyway, moving away from the table and chair and standing right where Amber wanted her.

Amber stepped over to her. "Now close your eyes."

"What?"

"Please just do it. We don't have all day."

"Oh, fine." And shut did her eyes.

God, she hoped this wasn't anything like that time when she was fooled into getting a slice of lemon inside her mouth when she was offered candy. It happened when she was five. Up to this day, she still held that against Noir.

"Now, concentrate."

Okay. She could do that. But… concentrate on what, exactly? Her voice? The dark void her shut eyelids brought her? Standing still and not losing her balance and destroying what little dignity she had left—

 _Oh._

The sound of footsteps. A hand on her shoulder. A burst of light—and sudden warmth, coursing all over her body. It was foreign. It was familiar. And it had Sterling initially wondering what was happening.

She felt an urge to jerk back, to make this weird sensation go away because this was _unnatural_ and _scary._ But just as her fear surfaced, it was washed away by a strong wave of calm. Soothing, wonderful, and strangely enough, uplifting. There weren't enough words in the dictionary to express exactly how it felt like.

 _In uncertainty_ _'s place confidence shall stand, unyielding, unfailing. In fear's place, bravery. In folly, wisdom. For it is through breaking these near-impossible barriers that we achieve our mission, whatever it may be. And though many may fall, we shall remain._

The faint voice that echoed in Sterling's mind was definitely not hers. Amber's. It was Amber's, judging from the smooth, honeyed way the words rolled out of mouth.

The hand that was on her shoulder now moved to rest on her heart. _By my power, I release your soul_.

Then the pressure went away, and Sterling opened her eyes.

Amber might have thought she'd managed to come off as someone who wasn't worse for wear, but Sterling wasn't fooled one bit. There was a strain in Amber's smile and her shoulders were hunched as she crossed her arms; the young woman was exhausted, and just one look at her eyes definitely showed it.

Amber grinned. "Look at your arm."

Sterling did. There was no sign of red anywhere in her pale skin. Or the pain. It was as if they never existed.

"Cool, but you can't have done that just to heal a welt."

"The Maiden's powers are tied to their Auras. Don't take my word for this, but I'm guessing yours being deactivated meant your powers are a lot more uncontrollable than they normally would be when your Aura's activated," Amber explained. Her grin became wider. Prouder. "Hopefully this is a temporary fix for the meantime. And congratulations for being my first volunteer—I've never done this before. No need to thank me!"

Sterling raised a hand and caught a glimpse of the light blue glow that was now fading from her skin. _Neat_.

Strange, though. Maybe she'd been expecting something just as magical, but she didn't feel any different from before. No surge of power, nothing as equally poetic. Heck, she'd sooner feel more comfortable power dressing than having the knowledge that, yay, her Aura was activated and she had a freakin' force field protecting her now. That was something her mind was still trying to catch up to and accept, by the way.

"Thanks are still in order."

Amber stuck a tongue out. "I said you didn't have to, but fine, you're welcome. In any case, I'm pretty sure I should kick myself out before I further abuse your hospitality."

" _I_ _'m_ pretty sure that's an understatement."

A raised eyebrow. "Banter already? Sounds like you're taking this better than expected. Good. Awesome. But for now, I'm getting going, securing the perimeter, and come back in, what, a couple days." She nodded at her own plan of action, obviously thinking it very sound. "So when I get back, I hope you're ready. We've got a long list of things to do!"

…Why did that make Sterling picture something incredibly unfun in her mind? Something like a long, harsh, training montage instead of the fun moment of mastering her powers because that was more wicked cool in comparison?

"You look like you just sucked a lemon," Amber pointed out.

"You make the whole thing sound unappealing," Sterling shot back.

"Don't be a wuss. You'll be fine." Amber stepped towards the door. She pulled it open. And turned her head to Sterling. She grinned. "And try to make sure Atlas is still in one piece by the time I'm back."

"What are you implyi—aaaaaand, there goes Autumn."

Just like that. No looking back. Only moving forward.

Sterling shook her head the moment the door shut with a gentle click. She remained standing until, five minutes later, she decided she was being an idiot and went on to plop down on the sofa.

Her thoughts assaulted her almost immediately.

Goodness, she was _not_ looking forward to the mess she was going to leave behind with her sudden retirement from her career. Then there were the excuses she had to make for her neighbors ("I'm going to visit a family member down south. She's really sick and needs some company. And more medicine."), for Noir ("Oh, you know me! I feel like going on a trip, I do it. Safely, of course, through airship. Better they get used at least once instead of rusting somewhere, right?), and for everyone else, "Yup. Going on a trip. Surprising, I know, hearing this from Miss Works-a-Lot.").

And more importantly, she was going to make sure she didn't start shooting fireballs like a certain video game character if anyone was stupid enough to piss her off during the next two or so days. She didn't have a volatile temper or anything, but you'll never know what could happen.

Speaking of her powers…

The throw pillow at the other end of the sofa suddenly held a certain appeal for the young woman.

 _I wonder_ _…_

She recalled the Aura-unlocking moment earlier and replicated her way of concentrating, stretched out an open palm, and emptied her thoughts, save of snow. Of ice. Ice that would freeze the pillow from the bottom up, and up, up, up until the thing was a literal block of ice. She was the Winter Maiden, after all. That specific season's physical embodiment. Might as well start on familiar territory.

And it seemed to be working out well for her! Slowly, surely, the pillow was slowly freezing over. White was dominating over red.

Sterling brightened. Hey, that's definitely not bad—

She shrieked and ducked from the icy explosion. Whoops, spoke too soon.

It took her ten minutes before she deemed it safe to push herself up from her awkward position and conclude she wasn't harmed in any way (even then, she wouldn't be; Auras prevented those kind of injuries… until they ran out). She found a crater where her pillow should be. And after turning around to inspect the magnitude of the damage… oh, darn it. There went that expensive painting she'd splurged on. In the course of a minute, it became a dart board.

Sterling groaned and collapsed back into her sofa. She's definitely got her work cut out for her.


	3. That Day of the Year

**III**

* * *

 **That Day of the Year**

 _Sometimes you get so distracted that you lose track of time._

* * *

Normally, Sterling had her alarm clock set to ring at exactly 6 o' clock. She would wake up feeling refreshed from a decent night's sleep, shut the ear-splitting thing, unwrap herself from her blanket cocoon, slip out of bed, and prepare a quick breakfast. Then she'd leave for work at seven, once all of her morning rituals were said and done, and shave thirty minutes off the clock with her travel time and arrive for work, starting her daily grind.

But for today, and for the two days before that, her alarm came to life at four in the morning.

"Ugh…" Sterling blindly grasped for the thing as her ears steadily grew numb from the shrill ringing. For a moment, her fingers were touching nothing but air, but then they finally found the bedside table and—there we go.

 _Click_.

The temptation to sleep in was very strong, considering that her eyelids still felt heavy and her body still enjoyed the comforts of her bed, but eventually she managed to get up and flip open the light switch. The dimness of the room was immediately no more. And then she yawned. Loudly. Wide mouth, bad breath, and everything. She was pretty sure something like this was enough to scandalize any of those high society people if they caught her doing it.

' _How can she be related to the Schnees_?' they'd ask. And she'd answer, _'Probably through divine intervention, but I'd rather think it's through genetics.'_

Anyway, she then rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and blinked those pair of red orbs open. She brushed some of her messy hair away from her face, reached for her glasses on the bedside table, slipped it on, and found herself gazing at the glowing numbers of the digital clock's face.

She knew what time she set the alarm during the previous night. She'd mentally prepared herself for it. But all the same, whatever motivation she had to start the day with a bang was effectively thrown out of the window and rolled over by a tank. And then some.

Four am. _Four am_. It should be a sin to have to get up that early. Where's the lightning willing to strike her down for it? Only crazy people loved to get up this early.

 _Then again, I_ _'m fairly certain my sanity is compromised the moment I became a Maiden,_ Sterling thought, shaking her head. _And I still can_ _'t believe I really am one._

It was just one of those things that took a while to completely sink in. But she wasn't about to stay there and wait for it to happen; she still needed to function like an ordinary person. That is, a person who felt like everything was something out of a dream…

Speaking of dreams, though, if she could sleep in she'd love to continue where she'd left off. It would have been a nice pick-me-up to have hugged the dream version of her mother before she woke up because they were having such a great time together in this fancy little cafe down the street and…

And now there was that familiar sense of emptiness and longing in her gut.

She also might have realized something. It came to her so suddenly, like the way a word that's been at the tip of her tongue finally made itself known. Sterling sat back down on her bed, pulled her scroll from underneath the pillow, accessed the calendar application, and checked the date. It couldn't possibly be today—

Oh. It was.

She shifted uncomfortably. Well… that explained things, but at least she knew what she was going to do later in the day.

She puffed her cheeks before exhaling all the air she'd accumulated. Okay, mystery solved. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten—but then, she hadn't exactly been keeping track of time.

It had been three days since Amber had come and gone. Three days since Sterling had done a mix of the following: making people know she was just going on a trip instead of disappearing into thin air (which was easy as pie because apparently her neighbors and acquaintances were too absorbed in the latest neighborhood scandal and Sterling was… well, not very important entirely), getting all her work-related affairs in order (which was hell on earth and still ongoing, but thankfully on its way to being untangled from the mess that it'd been), and most importantly, getting into the habit of waking up early for a lot of exercise (which was just hell, period).

It wasn't anything too complex, really. Just really tiring, mentally and physically. What she mostly did was run laps around the residential area, stop by the park to do those basic exercises taught to her more than a decade ago by her more combat-proficient mother, and come home to rest a bit before practicing her powers against the little trinkets-slash-practice-dummies she'd bought sometime after Amber left. She managed to clear up an area of her house for training, too, though it made the remaining parts of the house a lot more cluttered than it already was.

After all, regardless of what she personally felt about her new identity, she wasn't about to sit on her hands as she waited for the other Maiden's return! Just because she didn't have a teacher right now didn't mean she about to be unproductive with her time. Plus, self-learning was still a thing and, well, better for her to be on the initiative, right? She didn't mind being corrected if she'd doing things wrong all this time.

Deciding that she'd wasted enough time, Sterling stood up from her bed and grabbed a set of workout clothes from her drawer. She entered the bathroom, got the shower running, stripped herself of her clothes, and stepped right in. She was done doing all her morning rituals in a matter of minutes.

But before she stepped towards the door, her hair tied into two braids, she paused. And swallowed.

There was that annoying feeling again. The very thing that made her stomach flip-flop. Stupid anxiety.

Three days without any world-shattering incident, she reminded herself. Three. There was no reason for her to feel so nervous and doubtful every time she was about to leave the house. Just because she couldn't stop kicking herself over that incident more than a week ago and the darned memory kept coming to mind…

There she went again. Goodness, she needed to stop that. Sterling balled a fist and lightly tapped it against her forehead. Get over it, she told herself. Things were more stable ever since her Aura was activated—she wasn't the power keg she used to be. Especially when she started practicing on controlling her powers in her own way.

 _Pull yourself together, Sterling, and stop being irrational. You_ _'re a lot stronger than that._

"No screwing up. Not now and hopefully, not ever." she said to herself. "You'll rock and roll. You'll be awesome, if you already aren't."

And just like that, she found herself relaxing. There was just something nice about stating things out loud that made her feel so sure that that was exactly what was going to happen. It was very much unlike just thinking it at all. It made her doubts go away, made certainty stand firmly in their place. And wow, there was that confidence, too, a small spark that was growing to become a brighter, bigger flame. More than enough to have her thinking that, if there were any naysayers out there, she wasn't too averse to splashing a cup of hot chocolate at their faces. Idiots.

Sterling took a calming breath, pulled the door open, and emerged into the dimly-lit streets. With her scroll's music player belting out its first tune and her earphones firmly stuck in her ears, she took off and began Operation: Shape Up or Ship Out.

Of course, leave it to Lady Luck to decide that Sterling's day today needed some more variety.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

Several years ago, she'd told herself she was never getting involved in anything dangerous. Getting enrolled into Atlas Academy was a definite _no_ , and getting more than knee-deep into combat training was wholly unnecessary. She wanted to be content in living a semblance of her past life, one without conflict and without much fanfare. Maybe even fall in love and form a family somewhere down the line and produce kids, eventually reaching a ripe old age and dying without regrets..

So, really, it was very ironic that she was now doing the very thing Noir—and her mother—had tried encouraging her to do way back then: training.

She wasn't completely helpless in the art of combat, if she was to be honest with herself. Sterling still knew a few basic self-defense maneuvers that her mother drilled into her mind. "Huntress or no," Mama had said. "I refuse to have my little girl end up being the damsel in distress in a bad situation."

She also remembered what exercises to do in order to develop her body, and she was smart enough to know when something was way beyond her capacity to deal with. She was just extremely rusty, that's all, and these days, maaaaybe she was more likely to slap an offender who acted indecently towards her than kick him in the family jewels.

You know, come to think of it, she never really did find any appeal in becoming a Huntress. Sure, there was the fact that nearly every person under the sun knew their value in today's society and saw them both as celebrities and heroes. You had to be extremely grateful to the folks who risked their lives day and night just to keep everyone safe from the Grimm. But on the other hand, that was it: no matter how one sugarcoated it, the life of a Huntress (or a Huntsman) was dangerous.

And before this whole Maiden thing, she'd had enough of danger. She wasn't brave enough to sign herself up for something that could mean her life's end. Let other people become the hero; she was perfectly fine with that. She'd even generously thank the person to save her out of a rough bind.

Besides, even if a teeny, tiny part of her was interested at taking up that kind of career… she knew she was never hero material. She wasn't enough to be _any_ kind of material.

(But didn't people say that the true heroes are those who deny that they are until their dying breath?)

For one, she might be kind... which was subjective, anyway... but selfish. For another, she was too doubtful. If there was a burning building nearby and she was the only one capable of saving the screaming kid on the second floor, she'd end up wondering whether she was up to the task first and she'd come out of it safely before doing anything at all—and by the time she did, that building's probably a charred ruin by then. And if there was someone about to be murdered, she'd sooner be frozen by nerves.

With this whole Maiden thing into the equation, though… It wasn't like she had any choice but to be something like a hero. She was that random person in the audience pulled away and shoved into the spotlight.

What did people normally do when yesterday they'd been average but tomorrow had become someone special?

At this point, she felt more like she didn't have much of a choice but to hope that she lived up to the role. There _was_ no backing out of this, after all, unless she was perfectly fine with throwing herself off a cliff. Which she might have been, back when she'd suffered and later recovered from a bit of depression several years ago, but now… no. Just, no.

Well, anywho, there wasn't really much of a point in thinking of this much. The milk had long been spilled. Back to focusing on her exercise, which should be done after a few reps and she'll be golden—

"Well, well, I do believe my own eyes aren't deceiving me."

Sterling immediately stopped her exercise the moment she heard the voice, which had come out of nowhere and sounded dangerously close behind her. Without thinking, she clenched her hand into a fist, spun on her heel, and punched the sonuvabitch who thought it was a good idea to pull this kind of joke on her.

…At least, that was the plan.

The person behind her wasn't really cooperative.

And for that split second, neither were her Maiden powers.

Because when she ended up striking nothing but air as the person easily maneuvered out of the way—like a ballerina in a recital _and_ without even unclasping his hands behind him—Sterling noticed the faint traces of frost that emanated from her fist as it sailed through. Her heart nearly ended up too focused on that to remember maintaining equilibrium, and as a result she… well, made an ungraceful stumble into the ground.

Good news: her powers were back to being inactive and her hand felt normal again.

Bad news: owww, her forehead.

She actually forgot about her Aura being activated for a moment there. It was only when she'd pulled herself up a bit, brushed her fingers over her forehead _and_ felt nothing but unmarred skin that she did. Still, activated Aura or not, pain was pain, and it made her wonder how on Remnant a warrior could even handle something like this on a daily basis. A part of her was… awed at the thought. She grew limp from the relief all the same and completely slumped down on the ground.

"Sterling? If you're still alive down there, do say something."

Wait a minute. It hadn't occurred to her before because she'd been deep in thought, but she knew that voice. That annoying, yet familiar and honeyed voice…

She flipped her body over and pulled herself into a sitting position. Thankfully, her glasses didn't seem to crack when she'd fallen, if the lack of any distortion was of any indication (wouldn't it be _cool_ if her Aura had protected that, too?), but it _was_ dirty. She glared up at Noir.

"Next time, try not to scare me into an early grave, please," she said. "Good morning to you, too, Noir. And before you ask, I'm not about to forget my manners."

He seemed to have a response ready, judging from the easy smile on his face. But then his amber eyes rested on her forehead for some reason—and then it finally clicked. His eyebrows raised by a fraction.

"…Is your Aura activated?"

On a normal day, this would have been something she could lord over him. Noir Valentine was not usually caught surprised. Right now, however, all she could feel was a slight pang of panic of the _oh shit_ variety and her mind scrambled for some easy excuses that she wouldn't have a hard time believing herself.

Noir knew a lot about her, and she him, kinda; they've been friends since they were children. Thus, all his life, he'd known that Sterling had never had her Aura activated. How could it, when she had an insufficient amount of training? So with this sudden change… she hoped she still possessed enough BSing skills to pass through this particular check.

"Yes."

Well, okay, maybe the art of lying wasn't going to be much help here. If she elaborated, she'd sound like she was trying to justify it. Better she opted for a simple answer to a simple question; she wasn't a bad liar by any means, maybe, but the safest route was the best one to take here. She wasn't sure if her eyebrow-raising—as if to say, 'So what if it is?'—and her arm-crossing were overdoing it, though.

Fortunately, Noir didn't seem to have the need to push today. Instead his easy, mischievous smile was back in full force and he nodded, extending a hand to her. "Well, there certainly seems to be a story behind that. But I suppose you're not going to be forthcoming. You're full of secrets these days, you realize?"

She grabbed his hand.

"What can I say?" She said as Noir pulled her up like she weighed as much as a feather. "Mystery makes a lady like me all the more charming."

' _Mystery makes a lady like me all the more charming?_ _' Really, Sterling? Really?_ She couldn't believe the words that came right out of her mouth and she wondered if she could bang her head against a wall later. But it sounded ridiculous enough to _not_ be taken seriously, so maybe this was for the best.

"Except that you've been an open book all your life," Noir pointed out.

 _Damn it_.

"Noir," Sterling said. The smile that formed on her face was anything but serene. It was in moments like this that she was thankful for inheriting her father's red eyes than her mother's blue ones; they quietly promised bad things when she stared like that. Blue eyes wouldn't have the desired effect. Even though it made her look like a demon. "Today is a beautiful, sunny morning. Don't ruin it."

Noir laughed.

"Fine, fine, as you wish." He let Sterling regain her lost personal space and finish the exercise she'd been doing before he'd interrupted-slash-surprised-the-heck-out-of her. When she finished, he asked, "So. What brought this on? The punch you threw earlier was nearly executed well. You've been practicing."

That was easy enough to answer. She shrugged. "After spending all that time in bed, I guess it just finally occurred to me to continue where Mama had left off."

"Your mother?" He was puzzled for a second until it finally clicked. "Ah, right. Of course. Speaking of her…" It was the subtlest of shifts in his expression, but Sterling knew him long enough to notice all the little things. There was no mistaking that he'd taken on a sincere, sympathetic look on his face. She wouldn't have had any trouble appreciating that on a different day, but today it just made her feel… _argh_. "How are you holding up?"

She ignored the lump that formed in her throat.

"I'm fine," she said. It nearly took her more effort than usual to make herself sound convincing. "Noir, really, I am. But for now I'm just going to head home and rest a bit."

The inspecting stare Noir was giving her nearly made her avert her gaze and shuffle on her feet like a guilty five-year-old, but in the end she managed to stand her ground and do nothing. Whew. "You're certain."

"Yes, I'm certain." She shook her head. "Honestly, sometimes I think you know too much."

Maybe there was a strange expression in her face right now, too. Something that expressed she wasn't looking to step into that territory at all. Or maybe not, because she was certain she was as far away from the kind of person she used to be in regards to this matter. But whatever Noir seemed to have noticed, it made him decide to change course.

Thank goodness.

"Of course, I do! Otherwise, I wouldn't have anything to poke fun at you with." Deflection. And it worked; the mischievous smirk on his was was something Sterling could focus on. And it was definitely the kind of smirk she wouldn't mind wiping off—not with a fist, but maybe with a poke on the forehead. "You can thank our closeness for that."

"Remind me to get a restraining order, then," Sterling shot back. "You creep."

"Aw, but you know that takes the fun out of things."

"You say that, but it's not going to prevent you from finding some kind of a loophole."

He smirked. "I believe it's my turn to say that _you_ know too much. How cute."

For a moment, she looked like succumbing to the temptation of hitting him. But in the end, the most she could manage was a reluctant grin; she could always count on Noir to lighten things up. She stuck a tongue out and spun on her heel. "You know what? I'm just going to go home and drink some hot chocolate."

"I'll walk you home." He matched her pace as she made her way out of the park exit.

Sterling shrugged. "You and I both know that nothing will stop you from tagging along. May as well. You're decent enough company, I suppose."

They've been friends long enough to know which words meant offense and which ones didn't. So when Noir merely chuckled and walked with her down the rock-tiled pathway, the twenty-two-year-old felt neither relief nor surprise.

Noir was generally difficult to set off. If insults or negative commentary were beams of light, the man would be the mirror that bounced them all away. Heck, he'd do it with ease.

She kind of admired that about him, honestly. Her own skin could never be as thick as his. She did worry sometimes, though. It didn't do good to bottle everything up. With his own parents getting on his nerves, how was _he_ holding up?

"Something on my face?" Noir asked, making Sterling blink.

She didn't realize she'd been staring. At him. And from the way her friend's lips were curling, he found it amusing… and undoubtedly, he'd be tempted to say she was being cute, just because he knew she would deny to her dying breath that no, she wasn't, shush.

"You're too handsome for your own good," Sterling decided to say. It was the first thing that came to mind. Besides, she was way past the point of blushing and looking away like some sixteen-year-old would if she was in her shoes. "But don't let it get to your head. I'm not looking to deal with your fangirls the moment they start thinking that I'm competition."

"Hm. Would it be so bad if you are?"

A beat. She never really thought about that before.

"No, I suppose," she answered. "But that kind of thing isn't an immediate concern. You know me, wanting to get my life in order first before thinking of getting into anything at all." She gave him a sidelong glance. "No offense."

"Nothing to be offended at. It's actually admirable how you have your priorities straight."

She absently rubbed the back of her neck. "Er, thanks."

"And it's cute how easily a compliment embarrasses you."

"Don't push it, Valentine."

"Of course, of course."

Comfortable silence passed between them. It gave Sterling an opportunity to observe their surroundings as they walked towards the residential area at a leisurely pace.

Even if it was only around seven in the morning, the place was already busy. To and fro, all sorts of people were going along their own daily grinds. Some opened up shops, some in business attires were making their way to work as they conversed with someone on their scrolls, and some were making their way to the combat academy in the central part of Atlas. Sterling could tell they were; their weapons, prototype or otherwise, gleamed under the morning sun.

(She wondered what kind of weapon she could possibly have if she'd decided to take a different path earlier in her life.)

Come to think of it, had there even been a time when this city was all quiet and calm? No, she didn't think so. This place observed constant activity at all hours… which made it quite the contrast from the rural life she vaguely remembered having in her past life. Let's see… oh! Right. In her past home, it was already quiet as the dead at seven in the evening. The roads were empty, save for the occasional vehicle passing by, and people were generally getting ready for bed. One by one, all the houses in her town shut off their lights until the only thing shining were the streetlights outside.

But admittedly, she did like this change the most. Sure, life in the city was a whole new level of stress with the kind of pace one needed to keep up with in order to thrive. But it was also exciting and she felt like she fit right in.

She wasn't sure what to think now that it occurred to her that she was going to be leaving Atlas soon. Her _home_ , for better or for worse.

Speaking of her leaving… she realized she didn't know _how_ she was going to break it to him. Several days ago, it was easy to imagine her coming up with something reasonable and believable and telling him all about. Now she just felt like crap for even thinking of _wanting_ to lie to him in the first place. Downplaying her accident during that party more than a week ago was hard enough as it was.

Fortunately, she didn't have to say anything because he did.

Unfortunately, it was something she hadn't been expecting to hear.

"I believe you need to know something."

Sterling turned her head to Noir and raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to embark on a suicidal mission with low chances of survival, are you?"

"Hah, no, nothing so tragic, though the pay might be worth the risk…" He shook his head. The smile he had on his face had a certain strain to it now. "I am considering relocating from Atlas. In fact, there's a good chance I'll go with it."

Some planets out in space must've aligned to make this happen, because Sterling didn't know how else a crazy coincidence like this would come to be. She was going to be leaving for certain—and she tried not to think about how that was going to happen _safely_ since she was a sitting duck in a Grimm attack—but she hadn't expected him to think of leaving, too.

Many things were now popping up in her mind like daisies, but they were too jumbled up for her to focus on.

"Okay…" Sterling said. "I mean, certainly, I'm not about to stop you from seeking greener pastures, both figuratively and literally. But I have to ask, what brought this on?"

He shrugged. "Well, it's as you say. I'd certainly love a little green from all the white I keep seeing."

Sterling immediately knew he was deflecting again. He was taking back his decision to be honest and retreating back into his own comfort zone. This wasn't the first time he'd done so—otherwise she wouldn't have found out the bleaker details about his life. "Noir. I say this as a childhood friend who's endured your merciless teasing day after day: cut the crap."

"Right. Force of habit, sorry." He let silence hang heavy in the air for a few seconds. And then he finally answered, "It's my parents."

"They're being ridiculous," Sterling blurted out. They were just a sore topic to him as they were to her. They… reminded her of her past life's frustrations, which she unfortunately couldn't forget despite everything. "You're, like, twenty-four years old and they still refuse to acknowledge that you want to forge your own path."

"Which is exactly why I've decided to go somewhere they won't attempt to control me any longer," Noir said simply. "You know I've explained it to them countless times, but it seems I'll always be a little boy in their eyes."

"They're just… so… frustrating." Sterling shut her eyes and exhaled before opening them again. "You remind me a lot of my cousin."

A cousin whom she didn't know how to help out, much to her regret. She barely saw the girl as it was, let alone talk to her, especially when the White Fang's attacks on the SDC had increased in frequency _and_ intensity these days. She, herself, was lucky enough not to get caught in the crossfire in the war between them and the company. Smart enough to keep her head down low, she was.

And it really _was_ a war. Otherwise she'd still have more relatives living and breathing to this day and not to mention… Not to mention…

She decided didn't want to think on that much longer.

"Weiss? I suppose I do. Of course, the difference lies in the fact that my parents, while eager to get in Mr. Schnee's good graces, aren't as controlling as he is to his children," Noir said. "Let's just say that I've had enough of Mother and Father's 'subtle' attempts at trying to keep me under their shadow. And l do want to see the rest of the world, dangerous as it is."

She wasn't sure whether to feel relieved that her own mother encouraged her to pursue her own interests, or to feel guilty for having thought of that when her friend's been having it really bad.

"I… see."

"You know, half of me is tempted to just marry you so you can take over the company while I go about my own business," Noir said in a light tone. He had this mischievous smile in his face again. "After all, you don't mind living here. You tolerate my presence, and you know how to be professional. To boot, you have enough work experience to handle things with grace. Might as well."

Sterling did the only appropriate thing in reaction to such a statement.

She elbowed him in the waist. Hard.

"Don't joke about such things," Sterling reprimanded.

Noir laughed this time. "Sorry, sorry. I couldn't resist—you should see the look on your face." He regained his composure soon, though. "But seriously, I'm fine. They're nothing I can't handle, and I really do just want to go away for a while."

"I'll take your word for it," she replied. "But you do know that it might even take you months—or years—before you even set foot in Atlas again, right? Remnant's not exactly small."

"I'm very much aware. I'll come back eventually, though, so if you're going to cry because you can't live without me, please don't."

Sterling elbowed him again. "The only time I'm going to cry is during your funeral. Which shouldn't be anytime soon, mister, or else I'll have to find your soul in the afterlife and strangle it."

"That's quite unladylike, wouldn't you say?"

"A severe talking-to's a second option if it's too much for you, don't worry." Sterling said smoothly. Point one to her for not rising to one of his favorite baits. He'd said the same thing the last time she scarfed down a sandwich that tasted like rainbows and joy and in response, without looking up from her meal, told him to shove off.

Besides, if Noir had adopted a non-serious tone of voice once more, that meant confession time was well and truly over. She didn't have to be serious anymore, either.

An amused smile. He didn't even give Sterling the chance to level a glare at him. He merely turned away and proceeded to walk on the sidewalk again. Deciding that she'll get back at him for this in the future—pettily, of course—Sterling hmph'ed and matched his pace.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

Several twists and turns later, Sterling's house could be seen at the end of the corner: a modest household compared to the other more extravagant ones surrounding it. Her mother wasn't exactly poor to be unable to afford anything better (she was a Schnee, for God's sake), but the moment the woman had laid eyes on it, it was love at first sight.

At least, that what Mama told her when she'd first asked, back when she was a kid. The real reason was that it was as far away as possible from the home she used to share with her sister and father. Y'see, many, many years ago, she'd never approved of her sister's match with Jacques Schnee (who was then Jacques _Gel_ _é)_ , having sensed something utterly wrong about the man _._ An argument between her and the rest of the family occurred, and in the end Mama decided to move out with an infant Sterling in tow. This had been Sterling's home ever since.

"Here we are," Noir said, stopping by the front door.

"Home sweet home." Sterling stepped past him and fished her pockets for her house keys. "You want to come in and rest a bit?"

He shook his head. "No need. I need to take a new mission soon."

"Oh." Her shoulders sagged a bit at that. She'll admit, she felt a bit disappointed. There she was, hoping to make things up to Noir for her absence the past week, before he was back to flipping on his Huntsman switch.

Before she left Atlas herself.

 _Head in the game, Sterling_. Finally, she found the clinking, shiny pieces of metal, pulling the set out, picking the right key, and slipping it through the keyhole without feeling any resistance. But after that, she hadn't done anything; she paused and tore her gaze away from the door and stared up at Noir. "So…"

A sidelong glance. "So…?"

"About you leaving Atlas, do your parents know?"

Noir had one hell of a poker face, but it wasn't hard for her to find out what answer he had in mind. It was all revealed in the little things, such as his inability to speak at once, for once.

"Well, I guess that's for the better," Sterling said. "Might as well avoid any more future traps."

"For a moment there, I thought you were about to chastise me about leaving them in the dark because they're still my parents and they deserve to know."

She shook her head. "Oh, no way. That is completely your call—we're all adults here. I'm not about to dictate what you need to do. And besides, if you think this is for the best, then it's for the best. I respect that." She shrugged. "Sorry. It's just, I don't know, I just thought of asking."

"I see." Noir said. On the inside, she was sure that he genuinely appreciated her answer. Some of that appreciation were reflected in his eyes. "I'm going to miss you, you know."

The dry smile she adopted was definitely a weak one. Even if he hadn't left Atlas yet, she already wondered when was the next time she was going to see him. Would it be months? Years?

"Surprisingly, me too."

"You'll be fine by yourself, I hope?"

 _I hope so, because you_ _'re the only person I have for support these days._

"Don't worry, Noir, I'll be fine." She grinned. "Pinky swear."

He nodded. And then he did the one thing he hadn't done since that day in her past when everything felt like it had all fallen apart and he'd put a few pieces back together.

He pulled her into a hug.

There was nothing romantic about it. Not gonna lie, she felt warm and safe in his arms. But then, no sparks flew, no heartbeats raced, and there was only a strong sense of affection being shared with another that had each other's back for years and years. No matter how much they liked to annoy or tease each other.

Sure, there was a possibility there of something becoming so much more. That possibility was always there when two people had known each other for a long time, had gone through all sorts of trials and came out so much stronger for it. But today, that was the last thing on Sterling's mind.

When she pulled back, she shook her head and smiled. "What was that about?"

Noir grinned. "Something to remember me by."

The two of them ended up gazing at each other, reveling in the silence and… in her opinion, taking in the pleasant atmosphere this brought them. Seconds later, Sterling turned away from him and finally opened the door to her house.

"Well, with that out of the way, don't let me keep you." She made a shooing gesture with her hands, one she knew he would take as a joke. "Go on, get lost, and remember to write when you're finally out on the road."

"But of course. Don't count on me doing it for _you_ , though." He winked. Admittedly, there really was something charming about the guy when he was being agreeable to her. The next thing he said, though, might have put a dent on whatever happy feeling she had right now. "But in exchange, the next time we meet, you tell me all about that little _trick_ you did earlier."

Now it was Sterling's turn to wear one hell of a poker face. _Thud-thud_ , went her heart. And not in a good way. "Right."

"See you around, then." He gave her one last smile and a casual wave before turning around, going back the way he came. "And you say hi to your mother for me. I know you'll be visiting her later."

It didn't occur to her until much, much later that she'd completely forgotten about her half-baked plan of telling Noir that she was leaving Atlas, too.

* * *

 _Hey,_

 _Hi, how are you? Not that I_ _'m expecting you to reply, but I thought you'd like a greeting first. Anyway, you know who I am, and you don't need to worry about whether anyone's seen me slipping this little note under your door. Just wanted to tell you that you that our trip's going to be in session in two days._

 _There_ _'s a slight variation to the plan though. You need to at least know that. Nothing that'll cause a cardiac arrest, don't worry! It's just something necessary… after further discussion with my contact. I'll tell you more when we meet._

 _I hope all your affairs are in order._

 _\- A_

* * *

"Good afternoon, Mama," Sterling began with a fond smile. She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck. "I don't think I'll ever get used to greeting you like this, even if I've been doing the same thing every year."

Predictably, only a chilly gust of wind was there as a response.

After all, what other kind of response should she expect when she was here, in the cemetery, kneeling on the grave of her mother during her death anniversary?

Sterling rearranged the bouquet of flowers she'd gently placed right above the gravestone. 'Iris Schnee,' was engraved on the stone in cursive, black-colored letters. Below it was the year she was born and the year she died, and on the bottom part, a quote: 'Kindness is the sunshine in which virtue grows.'

Because that was what Mama had been, back when she'd been alive. The kindest person Sterling had ever met; she'd thought it was the most apt thing to place on her gravestone. Yes, Mama might have been too busy to spend much time with her daughter, but whenever she did, it was always a time that Sterling would always look at so fondly.

There just… wasn't a single mean bone in her mother. She'd been soft-spoken, maybe a little shy and aloof at times, but at the same time, she'd been brave and unhesitant to point out something she knew would not result to anything good. Because the person she cared about would suffer for it. Otherwise she wouldn't have been so concerned about her sister when that ill match between her and Jacques had been made.

Sterling couldn't have asked for a better mother in her second life.

Why did the world like taking away people who deserved to be in it much longer than most?

"A lot's happened recently, you know," Sterling continued, shaking away the memories that flooded her mind. "Well, the first half of the year was pretty dull and, I'll admit, really needed some color, but the second half… You might not believe it if I tell you."

She could easily imagine the woman wearing a soft smile and, gently, inquire, ' _And what is it, dear?'_

"Weeeell, y'see, it turns out that maybe you're half-right about me being special. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know perfectly well that that's what all mothers tell their children. But recently, I've ended up defining the word. Literally.

"I wish we're in a more private spot so I can be more specific, but basically, what I'm saying is, I'm not as normal as I used to be. And, I know I downplay things a lot, but..." She paused. "The thought of what lies ahead terrifies me like you wouldn't believe. I'm not suited to be this kind of being I've become."

She swallowed. "Yeah, I'm scared that I'll be a failure. I'm scared that I'll disappoint, that I might end up being this person who makes everything fall apart instead of being this person who keeps it all together. I'm not alone in this, I know, but…" She laughed awkwardly. "You know me, I can get nervous when I know I'm in a real bind. And then Noir's leaving and I'm going to be left alone with a couple strangers to help me out…"

It's been three years since her mother died. Three years since her world was cleaved in two. On the first year, she couldn't stop crying about her death when it came to mind. The second year, things got better. On the third, better still, but there was still those moments of weakness Sterling couldn't push down.

Like right now. Angst did not suit her.

She shut her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then, after a count of three, she exhaled. Then she shook her head. And smiled.

"But I know I have to be brave. That's what you keep telling me, right? To face my fears and give it a good ass-kicking. I have to keep moving forward and hope for the best. Otherwise, _they_ _'ll_ win. And I can't have that. I know I'll never be a hero, but at least I can try to act like one." She chuckled nervously. "Or learn how to be one, anyway."

What would she give for a "You can do it, Sterling!" right now.

"So in two days, I'm going to be leaving Atlas. I think it's going to be a really educational experience for me. I'm not sure when I'll come back, but hopefully, by that time I'll be a lot different from who I am now." She grinned and placed a hand on her chest. "Don't worry, I'm an adult now! I know I can take care of myself."

Sterling stood up. She ignored the tingly feeling coursing through her legs from having fallen asleep earlier. "So, uh, wherever you are, I hope you're watching. And…"

Sterling's mind drifted to the cause of her mother's death.

"I promise, I won't go after the White Fang for what they've done to you," she said in a quiet tone. "What they did is despicable, but I know you wouldn't want that—you've always known that it's not all black and white. And thanks to you, so do I. I'll try my best to focus on the journey ahead."

She smiled at the tombstone, wiping her eyes with her hands.

"That's all, really. And of course, I love you so much." She turned away. "I'll see you soon. Oh!" She paused, turned around, and smiled sheepishly. "Noir says hi. He won't admit it out loud, but he's always seen you as the mother he wished he had."

Then she left.

However, in all her focus on her plans for tonight, she completely failed to notice the presence of another person within the vicinity, standing beside a tree with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face.

A person with dark hair and amber eyes, one whom had just embraced her earlier in the day.

* * *

 **A/N:** So. That was a thing. The last part might need a bit more editing, which I'll definitely do at a later date, but I thought the rest of the chapter is fine enough for an update. Yeah, not a lot of stuff happening there, but I hope it's great all the same!

As per usual, feel free to leave a review, a fave, or a follow. It's all up to y'all, really~


	4. Surprises

**IV**

* * *

 **Surprises**

 _I swear someone up there really hates me._

* * *

She'd packed everything she'd need for a long journey, settled all the affairs she could settle in the span of five or so days, and accepted the fact that she was going to leave home and never return as the same person ever again.

But then her day of departure finally came, and she became anything _but_ a young woman ready to take on the world's burden as her own. In a sense.

In fact, you could say that she resembled a prisoner about to face a firing squad in five minutes.

Sterling finally snapped shut the book she'd been trying to read for the past half-hour, considering her attempt at passing the time futile as could be. Her mind was just racing too much to comprehend every word she saw on the pages; she wasn't even sure _what_ she was reading anymore. Something about a lady falling in love with the thief who took her jewelry?

She might as well have been reading gibberish. She uncrossed her legs, stood up from the sofa, and returned the book to the small shelf several feet away. Then, after several seconds of staring blankly ahead, she headed to the small kitchen area and decided to prepare herself a cup of coffee.

Sterling wasn't much of a coffee-drinker on a normal day. She wasn't some caffeine-hating bitch, but she didn't want to rely on the stuff, either. Thus, today was decided to be an exception, because she was pretty sure she'll need it for the rest of the day. She'd repeatedly tossed and turned on her bed the previous night and completely gave up on getting a semblance of rest when the clock struck seven. And, her stupid brain kept holding a grand prix for her racing thoughts. Didn't help that her eyes refused to stay shut, those meanies.

Unfair. It was, really, when she'd been nothing but zen for the past few days—well. Relatively zen, because of those mini-heart attacks she kept getting when her emotions had gotten the better of her and made her powers go _slightly_ wonky. Yes, slightly, because she was quick to get a lid on it before it did enough damage to make a person turn their head.

In hindsight, such was always the case when some kind of deadline existed. Just like how it was, back when she was in school, that the day of submission for her project felt like a distant dream until it was finally the day before and she was rushing to finish it because it was _tomorrow, shit_. The only difference between then and now was the sheer magnitude of what awaited her. And the day when she was feeling nervous as hell.

Now, where was she? Oh, right. Coffee.

Minutes passed. Her drink was consumed, equal parts bitter and sweet. The cup was washed and returned to where it was stashed before, and she had now moved on to changing from her pajamas—which made her look like a child but were nice and comfortable, thank you very much—to a day attire of her choosing. Basically, preparing herself for the day because, even if everyone in Remnant never judged people for their clothing choices, she was pretty sure there was still a limit to things. And that included wearing her P&J's outside the great outdoors.

 _Ah, Remnant_ , she couldn't help but think as she slipped into a fresher set of clothes, _If there_ _'s one thing I love about this world, it's its high regard for individualism and self-expression._

It was, after all, a part of Remnant culture that one should be able to express themselves completely. Not just in actions, but also in appearances. Wear what you want! Go with a color theme! Unity through diversity! Just go crazy, dammit! Don't take the right of individualism and self-expression for granted. Which was really.

But, wow, come to think of it, wearing anything you wanted was one thing. But wearing something that definitely made you stand apart from the others? Just like the trend was with the Huntsmen and Huntresses? Wow. Just wow. She actually felt mundane in comparison. Blacks and grays and whites when they were all in color. And when she factored in what colors her whole name implied, she really was.

In a way, though, the whole uniqueness thing was kind of like how those superheroes in the comics, shows, or movies had their own clothes to let people know who they were at just a glance. And with the Huntsmen being basically heroes anyway… huh. How had she not made that comparison before?

Before Sterling could further distract herself with that line of thinking and _finally_ pass the time, her doorbell rang.

 _Oh my gosh, this is it_.

She felt her heart start its hammering again. Then, feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, she rushed towards the nearest mirror and reassessed herself.

Obviously, nothing much had changed for her appearance-wise. She was still on the short side, a bit scrappy-looking if she left herself unchecked, and definitely looking chill on the outside but running in circles and flailing her arms on the inside. But at least her wavy hair was tied into neat twintails, which she couldn't do all the time thanks to her job requiring a more professional look. And, her face was clean. Not pretty or drop-dead gorgeous, but clean. Plus, as Noir enjoyed telling her, "cute."

Hey, whether that was said genuinely or teasingly, she wasn't about to deny that when it was the only positive thing a person could say about her face. _Inwardly_. Outwardly, she definitely would, just because. It was a better description than "a rabid fairy with fangs" when Noir caught her on a really bad day.

The doorbell rang again.

She wasn't even sure what made her powers go crazy. But in some sort of a knee-jerk reaction, she froze the mirror, which now had a thick layer of frost covering it. Sterling's eyes widened; she was pretty sure it wasn't the only thing suffering from a temperature drop now.

Why was she even nervous in the first place? This didn't make any sense! Brain, stop acting crazy and be sane, for once!

"Coming!" She yelled over her shoulder. Quickly coming up with a solution, she made a beeline for her bedroom cabinet, grabbed a blanket, dashed back to the mirror, and covered the frozen thing. Then, with a silent prayer that things do _not_ go wrong _now_ , she walked towards the door.

She opened it to reveal—

"C-cousin?"

Not Weiss.

Her older sister.

White hair tied into a bun, not a ponytail, with her bangs falling at the side of her face. Hands clasped firmly behind her. Stiff posture, her back ramrod straight. And those eyes, slate blue and piercing. Yep. It was definitely her.

"I do hope you've been eating well," Winter Schnee said as she stared down at her—the woman was also _tall_. And imposing. Very imposing, despite the faint traces of concern Sterling managed to detect. "Because right now, Sterling, you seem paler than usual."

 _Pull yourself together, darn it, and give the scary ice queen_ _—I mean, your darling cousin, an answer!_ She'd forgotten how intimidating she'd become. It was hard to believe Winter used to be her playmate back when they were children, someone who used to smile a whole lot more. A part of her resented Jacques Schnee because of that.

"I'm fine, don't worry!" Sterling said in response, quickly forming a smile on her face. She then tried looking over her cousin's shoulder. Might as well redirect the conversation to something else. "You're… alone?"

"Unfortunately, this is not a family visit," Winter said. And for a moment there, her frown resembled that of disappointment. It disappeared as quick as it appeared, covered by formality once again. Oh well, it was enough for Sterling to know that her cousin still managed to remember her despite the military monopolizing her time. And attention. "I'm here on official capacity."

"Shame. It was nice to see you again—I could have welcomed you inside for a bit of catching up," Sterling said. And then, she paused as the words finally sunk in. "Wait. What do you mean, you're here on official capacity?"

"It is as I've said." Winter nodded. Then, to elaborate, "While the specifics are classified, even to me, General Ironwood requires your presence."

The puzzle pieces came together. "And… the reason why you're not accompanied by anyone is because this whole thing is supposed to be discreet. To everyone else, this looks more like what I initially thought."

That made Winter smile a small one. Sterling could almost say her cousin was proud. "Still sharp, I see."

She grinned. "Sharp enough."

"I will admit I do feel concern… and curiosity… over the General's sudden interest in you, but orders are orders," Winter said. "Now, will you require a few minutes to get ready or, seeing as you are out of your nighttime clothing, are you going to come as is?"

"Just give me a few seconds to grab my keys, if you please," Sterling replied. At Winter's nod, Sterling stepped back, turned, and moved away to grab them.

Bunched together by a keychain, the keys were dangling over the key holder she'd installed on the wall a few years back. They clinked as she stuffed them in her hoodie's pocket. On her way back, she might have also silently wished the ice on her mirror melted instead of spreading out.

"Okay," she said once she'd returned. "I'm ready—"

Of course, that was when her mirror decided to just shatter.

Sterling winced from the sound. It was like hearing someone throw a rock at her window with a message that said, _Haha, you suck._

Her cousin raised her eyebrows. "What was that?"

Uh-oh.

"Something must've been knocked over by the wind. I, uh, kind of left a window open for some fresh air." Sterling was gladder than ever that the lie came to her like it was just there, waiting to be used. "Whatever mess is in there, I'll clean it up later."

Her skittish behavior, though, left much to be desired. And it made Winter regard her with suspicion. All that was needed was a dark room, a table with two chairs, and this would feel more like an interrogation.

"Are you certain?"

Poker face, poker face, poker face. "Yes. So, uh, shall we be off? I mean, we can't keep the good General waiting."

Sterling was hoping that Winter would buy her excuse. That she'd say yes and move on from there and this little accident would be forgotten. Okay, well, in general, she was hoping for a lot of things.

It was made apparent that some hopes were just meant to be dashed.

Winter shook her head, firmly nudged Sterling aside, and marched inside. She should have known nothing would get past a specialist of the Atlesian military's special operatives unit. Sterling swallowed and followed her cousin, who went to inspect the source of the noise.

What remained of the mirror was a pile of glass and ice, covered by a blanket.

 _Crap_. Winter faced her. She didn't need to open her mouth to ask—the look on her face was enough to form a silent question. An armor-piercing one, to boot, enough to send fear into the heart of the most ruthless criminal and make them confess everything.

"I swear that isn't what it looks like," Sterling began.

 _Really, Sterling? Really?_ Inwardly, she smacked herself. She didn't know why she said that when she knew that a line like that was as good as an admission of guilt.

"Really."

"Yes. Really."

"The way you're fiddling with your glasses says otherwise."

Guilty as charged. She froze. Drat, she really got her there. Sterling lowered the offending hand and proceeded to awkwardly play with her hair.

Her silence didn't last long under Winter's stare.

In fact, the way her cousin did it made her feel more like a kid caught staying up way past her bedtime.

Fortunately for her, this was something she'd already recited to herself long ago.

"Okay, fine. Winter, you got me. I… was messing around with Dust." Sterling took on a sheepish grin. _Grace under pressure_. "You can say that I might have gotten a bit overexcited about my Aura being activated recently. Don't ask me how it happened; it just did."

The best lies were the ones that were half-true, she supposed. For one, she really did have a few vials of Dust packed in her bags for her to use in case of any life-threatening emergencies. Throwing vials at a rampaging Grim might not be an efficient way to use them, but an explosion was just as destructive as a few choice offensive tricks. Anyway, for another, she _did_ wonder what else her Aura could do—what _semblance_ it'll give her, that is.

"I find it highly ironic that an employee of the SDC is not familiar with the correct usage of Dust," Winter merely said. While there was hardly any scolding accompanying it, the words were enough to make Sterling wince. Leave it to her cousin to not mince words.

And to think! Even if that wasn't… necessarily… true, they still struck her like stones would.

…Oh, fine, so in a way, Sterling _wasn_ _'t_ too familiar with the correct usage of Dust, at the end of the day. She never received the training for it beyond the half-remembered basics, and until recently, she never saw the necessity to directly tap into its power. If anyone wanted to call her pathetic for that, they had her permission.

"Yes, I know. I'm an idiot," was all she could say. Well, at least there was a silver lining here: better she be thought as mediocre with Dust than suspected of, well, Maidenhood. Not that Winter would ever make a leap towards _that_ conclusion.

Her cousin's disapproval still made Sterling feel bad, though.

"Perhaps. But at least, your house remains intact. You could have done worse. Like, perhaps, Weiss had during her first time."

Was that a dry smile from the ice queen herself? Unfortunately, it faded before Sterling could confirm that was exactly what she saw.

"Now," Winter stepped back and gestured to the doorway with a turn of her head, "let's not waste any more time. We leave for Atlas Academy."

"Atlas Academy. Right."

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

Atlas Academy, formerly known as Alsius, was exactly what it was since the end of the Great War: a Huntsman academy that trained warriors to combat the Grimm. It was a part of what Sterling inwardly coined as the Big Four, along with Vale's Beacon Academy, Vacuo's Shade Academy, and Mistral's Haven Academy.

Basically, that was where Winter and Sterling had headed, with her cousin driving them towards location by car because it was too far from the house. Not that she was complaining about the "inconvenient" location; the city became busier and noisier the deeper in the pair went. More vehicles, buildings, noise, stress, and people. The residential area might never be rid of the constant roaring of the flying airships up in the sky, but at least that was the only noisy thing about the place. Mostly.

And yup. That was right. Winter could drive. Cars were no doubt small fry when her cousin could maneuver an airship. Or at least, Sterling _thought_ her cousin could; it had to be a part of her training once she got into the military, right? Otherwise it'd be like going into war armed with nothing but a pencil.

Um. Anyway.

Before she knew it, the Dust-powered vehicle was parked somewhere within the vicinity, the pair had disembarked, and now she was following her cousin as she walked ahead of her towards the Huntsman academy.

Sterling had seen brochures of the different academies before. Whereas the other three were institutions either elegant in design, rough-looking but sturdy against the harsh elements, or oriental, like a Remnant version of Asian structures, Atlas Academy was plain, but imposing, focusing more on its facilities' functionality than making it look appealing on the outside. It was like staring at super large blocks of shapes assembled together so it could be called a building.

Obviously, this was where the saying "Don't judge a book by its cover" applied. Because, for all its plainness, the interior was enough to make Sterling stare in wonderment. Talk about cutting-edge technology in action!

"You'll have plenty more time to observe on your way out," Winter told her, snapping Sterling out of her thoughts. The twenty-two-year-old was quick to nod and follow her cousin again, who definitely had a small, amused smirk on her face before she'd turned away.

She might have flushed a bit when she noticed that Winter wasn't the only one who noticed her wide-eyed expression. For a moment there, she actually forgot that the area was filled to the brim with students in their gray-colored uniforms, walking to and fro and armed with weapons that were either commissioned or self-made.

Most Atlas folk were polite and formal by default, but it was still difficult to miss the flicker of amusement on their faces whenever they noticed something… not of the norm. Sterling had basically been the equivalent of a kid touring a chocolate factory.

 _Or maybe,_ she thought _, I_ _'ve been spending too much time with the elite and forgot that some people aren't as stiff and stuffy… and haughty… as those lot._

Fortunately for her, she didn't have to stay embarrassed for long. The two, fifteen minutes later, were standing by the hallway that led to the office of General James Ironwood, the man who wasn't just a general, but also the headmaster of the Academy itself. From the other side, two guards—or were they those… what was it, again? AK-200's?—stood at the opposite sides of the double doors.

"This is where I leave you," Winter informed her.

Sterling looked aside her cousin. "Right. You still need to get back to your other duties, huh?"

"Yes." A nod. And a pause, as if considering her next words to say. For that one moment there, her icy facade actually melted a fair bit. "…It was nice seeing you again.."

They weren't really as close as Winter was to her little sister, but she and Sterling had been close enough. Childhood playmates grown friends until their own affairs had them drifting apart until both seemed more like strangers to each other..

"We'll find some time to get together eventually. Maybe with Weiss along, too," Sterling said, flashing her cousin a reassuring smile. A smile that became a bit awkward when she remembered the _other_ Schnee. "…And Whitley, too, I guess, if he even wants to."

"Whitley. Of course." It wasn't a secret that the youngest Schnee was growing to be a lot more like his father than his sisters. It was hard to say what he even felt about his sisters—and family relatives—these days, and even harder to comprehend what, exactly, his sisters felt about their little brother now. From the sounds of it, though, Winter still cared enough about Whitley as she asked, "How _are_ those two?"

Sterling rummaged her memories of her most recent visit with them. For Weiss, images of her combating this large… knight thing came to mind, back when she had to hand a few files to Jacques' secretary. You know, as an emergency favor for her co-worker. Weiss had been in the middle of a training session, the secretary was monitoring her progress, and the smug bastard didn't even voice out any hints of concern when Weiss got punched so hard, her Aura weakened to the point that the skin on her eye split open.

Of course, Weiss won in the end, but that didn't make Sterling regard her superior kindly. Especially after she found out that they created the knight from captured Grimm specimens.

She promptly abandoned the thought before it got the better of her temper. Anyway.

For Whitley… well, God knows what the kid did on his spare time. She'd seen him around once or twice, the boy chillingly polite and civil in her presence but clearly bored and considered doing something else more worth his time. But, alas, not much beyond that. Either he spent more time with his schooling or he ended up being more and more indoctrinated by his father. Which was a pity, because Whitley might have been a better person without his father's influence.

"Whitley's still… being his complicated self, and Weiss, certainly, misses you," Sterling said.

Winter didn't say anything, being under the assumption that Sterling had much more to say. In fact, she was waiting for her cousin to continue.

And for a moment there, Sterling did want to elaborate. Unfortunately, she didn't know what else to say and gave up entirely on acting like she'd seen them recently at all. "Okay, scratch that. I get so busy I hardly get to see them, either. But that was certainly what I recall when I _had_ seen them. Separately. Because those two are never in the same room these days unless it's for some ridiculous family painting needed to be made for a new room in the mansion or something."

Winter let out a short, but noticeable sigh. She didn't bother pointing out that Sterling had rambled. Rambling was undignified.

"I see. That's… a shame." She shook her head. And just like that, the concerned eldest sister reverted to the cool-headed specialist Sterling had come to be familiar with. "In any case, it can't be helped. I shall be off for the meantime."

"We'll see each other again. And then we'll talk."

"I look forward to that, Sterling." And with her small smile given, Winter walked away.

She gave her cousin one last wave before turning around to face the hallway.

Okay, here goes nothing.

She swallowed, steeled her nerves, and made her slow way forward. The short walk was enough to gain some semblance of self-confidence back, and by the time she was standing before the double doors, her posture was back to being straight, not slouched, and her head was no longer bowed. Her dignity was secured, and she was ready for the meeting, whatever this was.

"Gentlemen," she said to the two guards in acknowledgment, never mind if they were androids or actual humans. Hearing no response, not that she expected any, she nodded and gently pushed the doors open. She stepped in and closed them shut behind her.

In all honesty, she didn't know what she was expecting to see the moment she entered General Ironwood's office. Something that made the place feel more personalized? More… impressive? As it was, what she saw was something more typical. A large desk. A plush seat behind it and a couple seats in front. Some bookshelves. Framed certificates of recognition on the wall, and a large, wide window at the back of the room that gave a view of the academy grounds down below.

Well, she wasn't about to judge. Maybe the General prioritized more important things than making a room look appealing. So long as the room served its purpose, there wasn't really anything to complain about. It wasn't like she was any better at interior decorating, anyway.

"Miss Yin. Glad to see you've made it," the man himself greeted. Sterling could only infer that he must've been taking a break from the piles of paperwork on his desk. He'd been standing by the window, having turned his head the moment she entered. "Please, have a seat."

Sterling had an urge to politely decline, but she decided against it and sat down on one of the sleek, black chairs in front of the desk.

"I'm not in trouble, am I?" Sterling asked. No doubt this meeting could be about anything, but she might as well get some things out of the way for the sake of her sanity. It's been frayed enough for the past couple of days with all the mental juggling she did in regards to her Maiden powers.

General Ironwood offered her a smile of reassurance. "No, don't worry. It's nothing so severe. But it is important." At Sterling's half-questioning, half-confused expression, he responded with a knowing one as he said, "It's about your situation."

The whole Maiden thing.

She wasn't sure whether to feel relief or surprise. "Oh. So you know."

"After a few correspondences with my colleagues, yes, I have been informed." He moved to sit back down on his chair. It was all Sterling could do not to shrink in his presence; he was nice, polite, and even charismatic and charming on occasion, but a meeting this private, just the two of them, one high up in the hierarchy and one so down low, had her feel like squirming on her seat. "Sterling Yin, age 22, and a receptionist at the Schnee Dust Company. Not a single strike on your record since the day you were born."

Her eyebrows raised slightly. "You did a background check on me?"

"We had to assess whether you will be a threat or otherwise," he explained simply. "I know you might see it as an invasion of privacy, but it had to be done as a cautionary measure. Especially when we have to consider what, exactly, you possess now."

That raised the question of what they'd do to her if she'd raised a lot of red flags, though… What a scary thought. She abandoned that one immediately.

"That's fair. And understandable." She nodded slowly. Still, a part of her couldn't help but feel a bit bothered. All those confidential info… She couldn't even begin to think how much he knew about her now. In hindsight, though, she couldn't fault him for doing that when it was his responsibility to ensure everyone's safety. In fact, that probably explained why—oh. "Wait, is that why you let me go that easily during that time with Penny?"

"For the most part, yes."

"Um. I see."

"You don't need to worry, Miss Yin. You're fine." He offered her a reassuring smile, the kind that could put a person at ease. "No doubt, after years of staying under the radar, you're surprised to be suddenly on it."

No kidding. "That's… a diplomatic way of putting it, yes."

"And considering the lack of any… incident for the past several days, you're aware that your current status is a top secret and must not be revealed at all costs."

Armed with some knowledge she managed to carry over from her past life, she sure as hell did.

"All too aware, which is why having a meeting like this in here, of all places, is enough to make me hope that there aren't any spies here, hiding, with less than stellar intentions." Sterling said. She grinned sheepishly. "Yes, I know, maybe I might be acting a little too paranoid, but I just can't be too sure."

Right now, she swore it was tempting to twirl her finger around a lock of hair. Just so she could distract herself. Well, too bad; she had an image to keep, and it meant acting like a respectable young lady.

"This office is secure, don't worry. I have personally made sure that this meeting is as private as could be. And,"—apparently, he was aware that she was hiding her discomfort… and that she wasn't fooling anybody—"I promise that you're not here to be interrogated. Nothing of the sort."

Hearing this, she finally let loose a sigh of relief.

"That's good to hear." Her smile was a lot less awkward now. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Sorry, after several days of making sure nothing terrible happens, my nerves are frayed. Plus, it's not every day someone like me gets the full attention of one of Atlas' most important people." She lowered her hand back into her lap and straightened herself. "So… moving on, what is this meeting about, then?"

"For starters, your next plan of action," he replied. "I've been informed that you already had plans of leaving Atlas, correct?"

"I'm going to assume that a certain Autumn was a part of that group correspondence, but yes, that's correct."

"Well, now you have a destination. After much discussion, it has been decided that you are to meet someone in Vale. As to what happens after that, it will be up to you." His smile was a bit of a dry one as he added, "For now, however, that's certainly a better alternative than ending up somewhere outside the safety of the kingdoms, don't you think? Especially without proper guidance."

Admittedly, it was.

Assuming for a moment that Amber would be the one teaching her what she needed to know about the Maidens, there was no telling how experienced the brown-haired girl was in general. Sure, Amber seemed to have her heart in the right place—she'd even been so kind as to activate Sterling's Aura. But at the end of the day… Amber never really struck her as teacher material. Or, for that matter, a veteran. Just someone who knew enough information to pass along to her peers.

Wouldn't most tricks of the trade be probably self-taught because there were no predecessors alive to teach them, anyway? To show them the full extent of their powers? There might be a chance that there was a written log all about it somewhere out there in the world, but in her opinion, that would probably be risky. So maybe there wasn't a written log after all.

…Okay, on the other hand, there _might_ be a chance that one of the other Maidens had been one long enough to be the nearest thing to a veteran. There always was. But then, God knows whether she's on the other side of the world. Or accessible, for that matter.

Besides, what Sterling primarily needed at this point was to be proficient enough in combat that she wasn't a sitting duck when her life was in danger (which was, in all honesty, a moment she hoped would never come). It was all well and good to possess powers that was as destructive as nature itself, but without the skill to utilize it properly, she was a goner. She didn't just need brawn—she also needed brains. Plus, getting outmaneuvered by a more experienced combatant would be a total nightmare and she might as well prepare her casket and funeral music.

"That's true," Sterling said in agreement. "But this person I need to meet. Who is it?"

"I'll answer that question with a question: how much do you know about Beacon Academy?"

"Well, it's obviously located in Vale and is, I mean no offense to Atlas Academy, considered to be the most prestigious Huntsman Academy among the four." She decided to pause there and gauge the general's reaction.

Nothing negative, fortunately. "No offense taken. Please, go on."

"Um. Right. So, Beacon Academy. As I recall, it's also about to get more attention next year because of the Vytal Festival happening in Vale. Its headmaster goes by the name of Ozpin and…" At the knowing look General Ironwood was giving her, Sterling's own eyes widened in realization and she regarded the man in disbelief. "He's the person who wants to see me."

A nod. And then, all the cogs and gears in her mind started turning.

"Colleagues. A… group. You're a group that's in on this secret." A part of her told her _yes_ , _obviously_ and another part was echoing a word—a _term_ for this group _—_ in her mind, one that felt foreign and familiar at the same time, but she decided she ought to get a confirmation, anyway. Her memory was wonky in places.

"We are." The General stood up from his seat and stepped towards the window, his hands clasped behind him. No doubt, he was gazing at the hustle and bustle of the students down below. "As you know, Miss Yin, there are many things that endanger the peace on Remnant. Many unseen threats not limited to the Grimm." the said. "Seeing that you're already been informed of what could happen if the secrecy of the Maidens comes out, you can see why our group is a necessary existence."

"To keep things in check and to ensure that peace continues to exist in Remnant."

"Exactly. And Ozpin… you can say that, out of all the individuals in this group of ours, is the most influential of them all," he said. "And… admittedly, I would have welcomed you into Atlas Academy with open arms in order to help you improve in the areas you're lacking. Not to mention provide protection until you can finally handle yourself without assistance." A resigned smile. "But other than the fact that he insisted and I hold the man in high regard, I also have your own decisions and opinions to consider."

Ah, yes, considering her own personal, not-so-positive opinion involved Atlas Academy's questionable close ties to the military, what with the students that were supposed to graduate as Huntsmen ended up as part of the military instead… it was nice of the general to actually be considerate. The lines between having ties to no kingdom and having loyalty to just one was blurred enough as it was without her messing things up.

"That's very nice of you, sir, and I can't put into words how much I appreciate your consideration," Sterling began, making sure her tone of voice was polite as could be. "But even if you've given me this offer beforehand, I'd still think I'm due for a fresh breath of air. I've, well, never gotten out of Atlas before; the company usually picks someone else to represent them on the occasional business trip outside the kingdom." She made an apologetic smile. "I wouldn't turn down a bit of sightseeing, for sure."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

"So… is that all?"

"Nearly. As a last note, you will be transported to Vale via airship, but someone will be…" There was something strange that flickered in his expression. Dislike? Doubt? "Escorting you along the way. He is a capable Huntsman in his own right, and he will be teaching you what you need to know about fighting. You were never trained for combat, if I recall correctly."

She blushed. It wouldn't have been so important before if she'd remained a citizen, but now she was a Maiden. A Maiden who didn't even know how to use her powers correctly or defend herself in times of danger, making her feel very, very inadequate. _Why was I chosen, again?_ "Just the basic of basics taught by my mother. Which could barely hold a candle to what a new enrollee of a primary combat school could do."

Still, a teacher… She couldn't help but wonder who that would be. This must've been the variation in the plan Amber had told her in that message. Was it Noir?

No, maybe not, if he's already left Atlas. But she hoped it was him.

"I see." He then moved back to his desk and picked up a scroll. He pulled the gadget open and, from the touch commands Sterling noticed, seemed to be accessing an application. "Well, I'm certain everything will fall into place at the end. I do believe that's all. I'll inform him that you've been briefed and you'll be ready for departure. Shall I provide him your home address?"

"By all means. It's in my record, wherever it's stashed at the moment. Always has been, not that you didn't know already." Sterling nodded and stood up from her seat. "Also, thank you. I wasn't expecting this kind of aid."

"You're very welcome. But when you start having any concerns, please, don't hesitate to contact me. Or for that matter, if you wish to return, you'll always be welcome in Atlesian soil." Lowering his scroll to the desk after having typed a message, he then offered his gloved hand for her to shake.

Sterling leaned a bit over the desk to reach his hand, took hold, and shook it firmly. "Let's just hope I don't end up a massive disappointment. This is pressuring enough as it is."

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

So.

She'd been repeating the same thing to herself many times now, but _this was it_.

Sterling couldn't help but commit everything about her house to memory. The paintings on her wall that she'd once bought out of impulse because she liked how they looked. The little shelf filled with all the books she managed to read on her spare time, genres ranging from contemporary to high fantasy and perfect for destressing. The small space at the front of the house where Mama demonstrated her skill with her weapons. The stain on the bedroom carpet that never went away and had once made her scream at it out of frustration. The living room where she and her mother spent their last moments together.

And so many more.

God, no wonder why some people liked to say that you should never get too attached to your material possessions. Letting go of them would be a pain in the rear; the higher the sentimental value, the more painful. And there was a _lot_ of it to be found in this house of hers.

She knew she needed to leave. But at the same time, there was just a part of her that absolutely, positively didn't want to.

This was the home she'd acquainted herself with as she adjusted to life on Remnant. This was where she relearned everything she'd lost since her past life's death. And this was where she'd come to accept her new life and lived the way she wanted to. All these connections she'd established, the foundations she'd built… the thought of leaving it all behind made her all the less motivated. At risk of sounding melodramatic, she was leaving a piece of her behind.

But she had to. She had to, because it was for the best. Because it was necessary. Coming into terms with that wasn't as easy as reciting the alphabet.

(Damn it, why did she feel like she was going in circles? This wasn't the first time she'd had this line of thinking.)

By the time she heard several knocks on her door, she wasn't anywhere close to finally, completely saying good-bye to her old life.

With a loud sigh, she turned around, walked to the door leading to her future, and pulled it open.

What was initially something she thought was climactic turned out to be the exact opposite.

Heck, she was pretty sure she wasn't expecting someone to be delivering her a package right this moment.

"Miss…" the delivery person read the details on the paper he was holding on his free hand as the other, with the help of his arm, maintained hold over the rectangular-shaped package. "Yin, right?"

"Yup, this is she," Sterling said. She eyed the box in confusion. "I don't recall having ordered anything, though."

"Well, technically, ma'am, you didn't. But, here," the man didn't hesitate to step forward and hand the box over. He'd moved away before Sterling could object. "There's supposedly a message stuffed inside. They didn't tell me much—I'm just the guy doing the deliveries—but it's supposed to explain the reason why you have that now." His grin made him seem boyish. "Don't need to worry none about any payments. It's been paid in full for the amount of time we needed to keep that in storage. Although... we had a bit of an internal problem in the office, so we're sorry it hasn't been delivered any sooner."

"Oh. Well. Okay, that's fine."

"That's pretty much it. Just sign here"—he handed her another form, which had the standard details like the sender (her breath hitched at that) and the recipient, which was her—"and oh! Of course, can't believe I forgot. Here's a pen."

"Thanks." Sterling's mind had gone strangely blank as she signed the form and returned it. "Is there anything else?"

"None. That's pretty much it."

He grinned at her again, gave a nod, and was off to deliver the rest of his packages to the other houses.

 _Okay, what_. Sterling stared down at the box in her hands. She hadn't been expecting to get this from _Mama_ at all. She didn't even know this existed!

But before she could take a couple steps back and shut the door, to be able to see what was inside the package before she finally left the house, she heard her name being called. She looked up, blinking.

Bounding towards her was the familiar, brown-haired young woman who'd pretty much flipped her world upside down several days ago: Amber. Sterling was about to gaze ahead and see who it was that had accompanied her, but by the time she was about to take her third step past the door, Amber had gotten close and blocked her view.

She just had to be taller than her.

"So!" Amber said. "You ready?"

"As ready as I can be. You seem awfully chipper today," Sterling commented. _It looks like I_ _'ll just have to check out what its contents is along the way. I think I can fit this in my bag,_ she thought as she gave the box another quick glance. _Along with that_ _other thing I had in mind because there was no way I_ _'m leaving_ that _behind._

"What can I say? There's always something exciting about trips like this." Her smile grew wide enough to reveal her white teeth. "Plus," She pointed a finger at Sterling, " _you_ have a lot of learning to do, and I, your wonderful and awesome—not to mention badass—teacher, will be glad to help you out."

"Speaking of teachers…" Sterling said before Amber could say more. "I've been told there's going to be another one? For combat?"

Amber opened her mouth to respond and gesture to the person accompanying her, but then it was made apparent she didn't need to do anything of the sort.

"You're looking at him, princess," said the man in question.

His voice sounded strikingly familiar…

Familiar, Sterling realized as she looked up and stared at his face, because she'd seen him before.

Yes, she definitely did. The red eyes. The dark, spiky hair. That red, tattered cloak. And not to mention, that faint, lingering scent of alcohol in his breath that pretty much confirmed things… Once the haze in her mind completely cleared, there was no mistaking who he was.

Sterling couldn't immediately respond as she tried to wrap her head around this particular revelation.

"And honestly speaking? You don't look like much."

 _Qrow_ flyin' _Branwen_ was here, standing beside Amber, arms crossed and looking hardly interested or impressed at what he was seeing before him. Amber's smile grew strained.

"Um."

"Yeah, just my luck, getting someone who'd sooner end up as Grimm chow than a capable warrior. And a Schnee, to boot? Looks like I've got my work cut out for me."

It was all Sterling could do to stop herself from finding a way to go back in time and make this encounter a thousand times better. And maybe say something equally biting instead if she failed. Something like, _Yes, well,_ I've _got my work cut out for me in regards to dealing with someone like_ you.

Because what had happened, right there, was totally uncalled for.

Talk about setting a bad first impression. And she'd hardly even done anything yet.

* * *

 **A/N:** This is me, submitting a new chapter after _finally_ knowing how I needed this to go. The most I could hope for is that no SoD gets ruined, much, because I swear I tried my best for this one.

But. Yeaaaaah. We're going to Beacon.

 _Someone_ : Review's read and acknowledged, friend. I'd argue that it's too early to jump to any conclusions, but some of the things you've pointed out are valid. To be honest, at the time of writing that part where we go a bit meta is meant to be taken... well, very lightly. I don't really hang out often to read stories on FFN (mostly because I don't want to end up subconsciously copying anything), so I've not much idea as to how bad that kind of joke was. -shrug- So. Eh. I fixed it a bit. Bandaid fix, but it's good enough.

Also. Yeah, I owe you other guys a review reply, but the time simply flew away from me. Sorry, I had to deal with some personal things and it just completely slipped away from my mind! (That is, depression is a bitch.)

And as a last note, I initially hadn't been _too_ aware of Amber's height. I just decided to check out some data again, and. Oops. If what's stated on the wiki is correct, I had to do some fixing in the first chapter because my initial impression of Sterling, height-wise, is something that turns out to be much different from Amber. That's all, and it's so minor it's hardly relevant anyway. XD


	5. Shape Up or Ship Out

**V**

* * *

 **Shape Up or Ship Out**

 _Guess which was picked._

* * *

"For the record," Sterling said after she'd boarded the airship hovering by the skyport, two hours after she'd left her home, "just because I happen to be related to a certain famous family—which you've made apparent you don't like—doesn't mean I'm an apple that didn't fall far from the same tree."

It had been something she'd been meaning to tell Qrow Branwen during the entire trip earlier. Something that constantly tugged at her; she didn't want the two of them getting off on the wrong foot. But with Amber having constantly chatted her up, because apparently the other Maiden thought Sterling was going to make a violent outburst and decided to be the distraction before _that_ happened, she never really got the opportunity.

Good grief, she wasn't even planning on doing such a thing. Nor was she thinking of hitting the man with her large backpack. Honest! She'd been raised to be better than that.

Well, okay, for the most part. She was leagues better than what her impulsive past self used to be, anyway.

"Oh yeah?" Qrow—and Amber—had gone ahead of her, so they were already standing past the automated sliding doors leading to the spacious viewing gallery, a location on the aircraft with large windows that provided a nice view of the city down below. A look at the man's face pretty much told her he didn't believe her. "That remains to be seen."

"Hey—"

He started walking away from her before she could finish (or start) whatever she'd meant to say. "Here. Four a.m. Be on time. Not like we've got anywhere else we can move freely around in. We're also the only passengers on board, so if you're about to get gray hairs from having to tiptoe around people, don't." He paused and moved his head to the side, glancing at her. What he'd added was pretty much an afterthought. "Right. And if you've got any questions about _that_ , ask James."

And he left her. Just like that. The dismissal felt cold enough to freeze an active volcano.

Sterling stared at his retreating back, utterly left speechless.

…You know what? Her attempts at good behavior could go screw themselves. Here she was, trying her best to be civil and to prove she wasn't anything like her Schnee relatives while, at the same time, she was fighting off the aftereffects of her inability to sleep the previous night. Her mind was fuzzy at the edges, her eyelids felt like they were weighed down by bricks, and all she wanted to do right now was to plop down on one of the airship's cushy seats, recline it, and sleep the rest of the evening away. But if he was going to be that way…

Something inside her snapped. Without stopping to think if this was going to be something the saner, more rested version of herself would kick her for later, she half-shouted, "That's _General_ Ironwood to you, Mister Rude and Drunken!"

She didn't really know what she wanted from that outburst. But she wanted _something_ to happen—except that, well, nothing did.

Qrow didn't even do anything. No stopping, no death glaring, nada. All he did was let out what sounded to Sterling's ears as an amused snort, continuing on without a falter in his step.

She had to admit, though. For someone who'd taken a lot of shots from that flask of his for the past few hours (as to how he had a constant supply of the stuff, she didn't know), he was walking just fine. No swaying, no heavy footfalls. Just the slightest of slurs in that scratchy voice of his. That was one hell of a tolerance right there, probably built up since the day he started sipping his first glass of the stuff.

Amber's resulting expression of _Really, Sterling?_ seconds later pretty much informed her how ridiculous she'd been. The brown-haired girl was even doing that raised, single eyebrow thing that not a lot of people could pull off.

"You know he's totally going to get back at you for that tomorrow morning, right?" Amber said. After noting Sterling's now-puzzled look, she added, "During training?"

The person in question made several dumb, slow blinks. Then, it hit her. Her jaw grew slack. And if she was pale before, she was even paler now.

She never did like lapses in judgment.

"Fuck."

That was the first time she'd ever been crass in a long, long while.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

Prior to meeting Qrow, Sterling had been trying to get into the habit of waking up in such an ungodly hour. Keyword being trying. She thought she was finally getting some progress since she didn't feel like dying anymore, but upon waking up, she remembered what was in store for her today and lost all motivation. In short, she found waking up at this hour to be bad. Bad enough that, if worse came to worst, she would have to have Amber to pry her sleepy self off her reclined, cushy chair.

With a crowbar.

Turns out, getting her ass kicked in many different ways was torture.

The way Sterling was slammed on the ground would have aroused a sharp intake of breath from an audience if they existed. The way she was easily swatted down because her instructor was an extremely skilled, full-fledged Huntsman and she was nothing but small fry… she never really stood a chance. A curb-stomp battle in all its curb-stompy glory. And did she mention that takedown was like being the receiving end of a full nelson slam?

As it was, the most that happened was Qrow looking down at her, unimpressed, waiting for the twenty-two-year-old to pick herself up and try, for the nth time, to score a hit against the man and show that she _was_ learning something.

Stupid I-need-to-gauge-your-skills test. Stupid necessity to learn combat because an inexperienced Maiden was a dead Maiden. Stupid… gaaah!

"You know," Qrow said as she stood back up with a grimace, "for someone who claims to know a thing or two about combat, you're pathetic. Hell, you're even worse than my niece when she started out."

Ouch. Way to add insult to injury. It was a good thing Amber wasn't here right now to watch the show; the other Maiden was still sleeping in the passenger area. Lucky bastard.

"I never said I was any good." Sterling gingerly rubbed her aching back. If the skin bruised despite her Aura protecting her, she wasn't going to be surprised. That smarted.

"Doesn't mean you have the excuse to do poorly."

 _I_ _'m trying, dammit_. She felt a pang of mild irritation. "Yes, well, perhaps if you used a gentler touch, then maybe I wouldn't be this terrible."

"What, too harsh on your delicate self?" He shook his head. "Come on, Yin. Step up your game. This isn't amateur hour."

One would think he was enjoying riling her up, what with that faint smirk on his face as he took in the sight of Sterling's look of offense. On the other hand, maybe he was still testing her. Maybe he was trying to find out how she dealt with someone who actively pushed her buttons.

Oh, no. No, no, no. She was _not_ going to play that game with him. She was a nice person, dammit, and she wasn't about to let him release all the ugly inside of her.

…Well, okay, she _generally_ nice, but still.

Sterling closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Think. Happy. Thoughts. She repeated those three words in her mind until the red haze cleared.

After feeling like she wasn't about to attack anyone at the slightest provocation, she opened them and made eye-contact with her combat instructor. "Okay, two things: one, I am not delicate. Soft like a marshmallow, maybe. But delicate? Absolutely, positively not. And two, because I could see it in your eyes and apparently it can't be repeated enough, I'm not a spoiled brat."

"Wouldn't be the first time an Atlesian said that," the man returned in a nonchalant tone. "And coming from someone with a family background like yours, I have a hard time believing that."

Sterling didn't warrant that a reply.

At least, not at first.

When they'd started their training session—which had later ended up as something more of a beatdown—an hour or two ago, Qrow had said that he wanted to see what Sterling knew about combat so he, in turn, would know where to start (and make his job a million times easier). Or something along those lines, anyway, because he'd also wanted to see her score a hit against him.

"You wanted to prove something?" he'd said. "Then come on, let's see what you can do."

Ever since, they'd been alternating from learning moves to applying them. Qrow had been making her repeat each one until he was satisfied. She hadn't made a lot of progress, much to her teacher's frustration.

For that matter, she hadn't been successful in scoring a hit against the man, either. Either she completely missed her attacks because Qrow saw them coming a mile away and refused to go easy on her, or something stupid happened for some unknown reason and all her supposedly successful attempts ended with her getting her butt kicked in many different ways. And did she mention her defensive instincts were terrible? She was pretty sure her head was filled with enough corrections on proper stance and-or footing that she'd burst if she learned more.

By distracting Qrow through a bit of talking after that recent failure, she'd hoped that she'd score a lucky hit by making sudden movements. He hadn't said anything about making unannounced moves. And technically, they'd hadn't stopped for a break.

Thus, Sterling's reply came in the form of moving forward to perform a punch since, well, that was the only thing she knew to do correctly—a safer option than performing a kick. Lord knew how often she failed to recover from the momentum she'd made from swinging a leg, which Qrow exploited. Every. Time.

…Unfortunately for her, the moment that was supposed to be her victory became the moment when the airship encountered a bit of turbulence. And with shaking airships came unsteady footing, and with unsteady footing an ungraceful drop to the floor. She didn't see her mentor's face then, but she was pretty sure he'd shook his head at her in disapproval. Again. Or he'd palmed his face for the sake of variety.

Amidst the pain, Sterling almost worried about a broken nose until.. darn it, not again, she remembered her Aura at the last second. She sat back up and nursed her aching nose until the pain faded.

"Okay," Sterling said, reaching for her discarded glasses and putting it back on. She ignored the amusement now gleaming in her teacher's eyes. "That, right there, is undoubtedly me being told by life that it hates me."

"Or it's telling you if you at least made an attempt to recover from your lost footing, maybe you'd still have a chance to keep standing," Qrow said. Of course, he didn't bother helping her up. "Alright, I'll give you points for effort back there. But…" He clicked his tongue. "Even if your footing was steady, you weren't fast enough. At least you seem to be learning from each failure. Barely."

Really. Would it kill this man to make an actual, legitimate compliment?

"You… ugh. You know what, I'll just conclude today's nothing but continuous bad luck." She sighed and stood up from where she'd been sitting. Could've sworn she saw a peculiar flash across Qrow's face just then… nope, that was probably just her imagination.

Him? Bothered? Pfft.

Anyway, she didn't know how much more of this she could take. Since she'd woken up, there had been nothing but nonstop movement, failure, and disappointment. In no specific order, without a single "You can do it, Sterling!" in sight. Things were made worse by the fact that the day had barely begun, judging from the sunrise she could see on the large, arched window. Wouldn't it be great if she could just stay there and watch the waters shimmer…?

Sterling was not a happy camper as she stared at her combat instructor. "You really don't like me, don't you?"

He shrugged. "If you took this session a little more seriously, complained less, and stopped making excuses, maybe I might change my mind about you. But so far, all you're proving is that you're a waste of time."

She winced as if physically struck. She muttered something about difficult to please combat teachers named after birds before shaking her head and wiping some sweat off her forehead. Then she walked towards the bottle of water she'd put at the side of the wall along with a towel hours ago, picking the thing up and taking a large gulp of water. After that she said, "You know what? I'm calling for a time-out."

Qrow raised his eyebrows. "Giving up already? We've barely even started."

 _Barely even started_? _Then what_ _'s the actual training session going to be? Slow, eventual death by fatigue? An apocalypse?_ Wow, she didn't realize her mental snark was in top form today.

"I think I'll pass on questioning what _you_ consider as the actual training session, thank you," she decided to say. Then she forced a smile on her face. She looked more like she'd bitten a lemon. "Let's face it. You're not making it easy for me, and I'm not making it easy for you. I think we need to step back a bit, take a breather, and come up with a new strategy for this arrangement so we don't strangle each other's throats the longer we're stuck in this airship."

"In other words, you're giving up."

Good lord. "I'm _taking a break_. There's a difference."

Her combat teacher was staring down at her, unconvinced. If he was barely impressed with her before, he was definitely impressed even less now. "This whole trip isn't going to be all sunshine and rainbows, Yin. I thought you knew that. Or was that all a lie?"

"You've pretty much established that the first time you knocked me to the floor, either way," Sterling shot back. "I'm merely saying I'm having a hard time keeping up, what with the way you've been making me do all sorts of things nonstop since I woke up."

"And I'm saying you don't have that kind of luxury right now because, like it or not, we have a lot of ground to cover today."

That was reasonable, she supposed. But on the other hand, there was still that teeny, tiny fact that he'd been pushing her so hard she dared not wonder what kind of training _he_ took up as a kid. Then there was her having tried so hard to stay pleasant. So, so hard. Something told her she might as well cut straight to the point. She considered that for a moment, and found herself agreeing.

To hell with diplomacy, then. "Dammit, Branwen, I _know_ that. But it's been barely a day since you started training me." She pointed to the window. "We're up high on an airship without any aerial Grimm in the vicinity; we're safe. And I don't know how fast we're flying, but I doubt we'll be landing anytime soon." She lowered her hand and shook her head. "I need to be eased into your training regimen, not expected to immediately understand everything in just a couple of tries. Now, do you understand? I wasn't raised to be a combatant."

Qrow looked more like he was starting to get a hangover just by being in her presence. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, opening them a second later.

"Alright, you know what? Let's establish something right now, for both our sakes."

"Like what?"

"Like the fact that there's no telling when everything's going to hell. But even then, I've seen enough out there to know that things are getting worse," Qrow said. For once, he'd actually turned dead serious. His eyes had never been more piercing once they were staring right at hers. "And like it or not, you are what you are now. If you're not willing to keep up with what I'm trying to teach you in as short a timeframe as possible because you _need_ to—hell, if you can't make yourself be more than ready when doomsday comes knocking, because it will, you might as well sign your own death warrant right now and get it over with. Let someone better take your place."

"I—"

"No," he cut her off. "Don't even start saying that you're aware, that you know the risks. Amber's no doubt told you of what's at stake, and you probably have ideas of your own. You probably don't even realize right now that you would've been dead several times over if this had been an actual fight for your life and I'm one of the bad guys hunting you down." He ignored the way she'd paled. "Yeah, that's right. You won't be thinking the dangers are more than just horror stories until you've been out there and you've seen it all yourself. So take my advice, Yin: don't wait for disaster to happen in front of you before you start taking it all seriously."

Whatever Sterling wanted to say after that had pretty much evaporated into the air. She tried to open her mouth to say something, anything, to fill the silence that had now set itself in place, but all she'd managed to do was close it shut and admit, silently, that maybe her combat teacher was right.

No, not maybe. Definitely. Feeling like she needed a moment for the wave of dizziness to pass, she distracted herself by returning her water bottle to its previous location and wiping off more sweat from her face.

So. She knew things he didn't, alright, and she could summon some bits and pieces of her past memories that proved that she did. A woman with fire in her eyes, shadowed over by someone even worse. Chaos. Destruction. Death. Nothing more. But then, previously, she'd been nothing but a part of an audience. Anything that happened had no real effect to her. Now, not anymore.

She thought it was enough to have that knowledge in her mind to keep herself anchored, but as it turned out, that wasn't enough.

Talk about dumping a bucket of ice, cold water on her. Why _was_ she acting like the person she thought herself to be the last thing she'd be? Maybe she was a lot more spoiled by the safe, civilian life than she thought.

She hadn't been out there like he was. Hadn't been struck by that kind of reality. She'd never even seen a living, breathing Grimm before—and still hadn't, beyond a few news clips on the television—since those monsters never got past all the city's defenses. All she had were tales of the horrors outside the kingdoms and what little knowledge of the future she had left in her mind.

Qrow was right on the money. All those bad things she'd known wouldn't feel real until it started happening before her eyes. Just like the way she didn't believe she'd been living in Remnant until she'd scraped her knee for the first time and felt the pain.

But... Gah, dammit, even after hearing all that, she couldn't make herself truly believe that the dangers were out there. Not when she'd been living in safety and comfort all her life. Not when her current reality was doing a good job of keeping up an illusion that everything was fine, the world wasn't going to make a turn for the worse, and she was just imagining things. There was some stupid, psychological crap in play, and she was trapped in it.

So if that's the case, where did that leave her, then?

God, she didn't know anymore. But there was still the fact of the matter: if she wanted Qrow to regard her in a better light—if she wanted the two of them to get along like she hoped they would then, dammit, she would do whatever she could to achieve that result. She had to try harder to be better than who she was now. For everyone's sake.

Of course, it couldn't be accomplished in a day, but a good start made all the difference.

"Fine, I get it. I know when I'm wrong," Sterling finally said. It seemed like it took her forever with all those thoughts she'd mulled over, but in reality only a short moment had passed. "You don't need to remind me that I'm the least suitable candidate for this whole thing. God knows I didn't sign up for this. It hasn't exactly been an easy transition, with one thing happening after another." She sighed in resignation. "But know this, alright? Despite all that, I don't want to be a disappointment. I want to be good at this."

"So show me," Qrow said simply. He then moved into a battle stance he'd taught her earlier. He'll be wanting her to counter his attack and turn the advantage to her. "You want me to change my my mind about you? Then start proving for real that you mean every single word you've said. Be a lot more than just another proud Schnee brat I initially thought you were."

She nodded, mirroring Qrow and readying herself for what was to come. "I'll try my best. That's all I can promise right now."

"I'll take that."

It all happened in a blur. There was some movement, some contact, and before she knew it, it was over.

And she had a hard time believing it.

In one moment, Qrow was upon her. She'd felt that pang of nervousness as she saw him coming because he always promised a nasty takedown. She'd gritted her teeth and braced herself for it, nonetheless. _Not this time, Qrow. Not. This. Time._ She'd seen him come close and then things had started going fast, too fast until—

She'd still ended up on the floor. But before that, she'd actually managed to catch her teacher's arm, knock it away, and throw her own punch. He'd made an unexpected follow-up attack after that so her attempt was interrupted, but—whoa.

She hadn't been able to do that earlier.

"That would've gotten you killed again," Qrow said as Sterling stood up. She was about to frown, disappointed in having failed despite that glimmer of improvement, but then the man said, "But I saw that look in your eyes earlier. Good. You're starting to mean business."

She guessed that was good enough. For her. "But I doubt that's even acceptable for you."

"Nope. Not in the least." But then, there was the faintest trace of approval as he nodded. "But what you did there, it's a start."

He'd still dismissed her much, much later in that nonchalant way of his and proceeded to take a nice, long sip of alcohol from his flask. He'd told her to meet him again in the evening and that he expected her to be in top form or else, quote and unquote, she'll get her ass kicked twice as worse than before. Good job on not losing it, though, because he'd been expecting a tantrum after he'd given that slap of reality.

But unlike the time when she'd started out, he'd basically told her he was giving her a chance. Sterling had a feeling that, given more time, maybe this whole arrangement might not be so bad after all.

Once she got past all the soreness she'll be feeling tomorrow, anyway, because his training regimen made hers pale considerably in comparison.

* * *

◦•●◉✿◉●•◦

* * *

There was a funny look of shock on Amber's face the moment she saw Sterling, who was currently dragging her feet towards the nearest chair in the passenger area. The latter gave Amber a tired smile and a little wave, decided against pointing out that the pamphlet the other Maiden held was starting to be forgotten entirely, and carried on with her current struggle of reaching her seat without collapsing on the ground.

Not that she was actually going to collapse, per se, but it was a possibility.

But, honestly, the twenty-two-year-old couldn't blame her. Not when she looked and felt like crap. For one, her muscles felt like they were reduced to jelly, giving her not-so-fond reminders of those strangely lucid days she'd spent as an infant. For another, her normally tidy hair was the exact opposite, and she was pretty sure she was moving the way a robot would, instead of a normal, functioning human being.

She knew it would get worse tomorrow; no doubt her poor, poor muscles would feel more like they were doused in gasoline and set on fire by a pyromaniac. Oh, she'd told herself countless time to suck it up because it was only going to get worse, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to her future training sessions.

"I'm not looking at a zombie, am I?" Amber asked, seconds after she'd recovered. And realized that, ohhh, right, she'd been reading something prior to Sterling's arrival. She lowered the pamphlet on her lap and closed it shut.

"Oh, ha-ha." Sterling finally reached her seat and plopped herself down. She practically melted into the thing and almost thought of crying from the sheer relief the cushion gave her. Of course, she didn't do the latter. That'd be embarrassing. "If that's the case, you may want to stay away from me. I'll bite and infect you like the walking dead I am. Then the virus will spread, and before you know it, boom. Zombie apocalypse."

"Provided you can even muster the energy to do so," the other Maiden returned with a wry smile. Sterling clutched her chest and gave her a look of mock offense. Observing the twenty-two-year-old further, she said, "God, that man doesn't screw around, doesn't he?"

Sterling lowered her hand and made a face.

"Apparently not, then," Amber said.

Sterling blinked at that. Judging from the way she worded it, it was as if Amber… "How well do you know him, anyway?"

"Barely." Amber replied. Well, that explained. "I've seen him around once, maybe twice, when I was traveling outside the kingdoms and he was out and about. Our talks never really went beyond the occasional exchange of news. I mean"—she shrugged—"it's not exactly easy to maintain some kind of communications network when more than half the time, you don't know where the other Maidens are and how they're doing."

"I see."

"Yup, so we're hardly friends. Qrow seems like a decent guy if you're on his good side. Probably means well, too; only problem is, he has the tendency to be as approachable as a grumpy cat. A grumpy, _drunk_ cat." Amber then appeared to consider going back to what she'd been reading, giving the object on her lap a quick glimpse, but in the end she decided against it and returned it from where she'd grabbed it a long while ago: on the pocket of the seat in front of her. "Anyway…"

Sterling raised her eyebrows.

"Remember when I said I'd teach you a thing or two about, well, you know?" Amber asked.

Sterling nodded in response, though she might have looked a bit hopeful there, wanting to do something that might not be as taxing as Qrow's exercises.

The Maiden made an awkward smile and rubbed the back of her neck as if she was guilty of something. "Yeah… about that… I think I might have been a bit _too_ enthusiastic before since, you know, I don't really get an opportunity like this. So…" Her smile grew pained. "It's just occurred to me that teaching you in an airship while we're miles up in the air? Not a good idea."

Some hopes were just meant to be dashed.

On the other hand, Amber was right. Nobody would want the vehicle to suddenly crash down to the waters just because of an accident from a magic practice, so to say. Not only would that make Qrow talk Sterling's ear off, among other things, but that would also mean she had to bullshit her way out of the inevitable conversation she'd be having with a very puzzled pilot. And whatever crew he had with him.

…Y'know, that just made her all the more relieved her powers were more stabilized now. The thing was like a glove slowly getting more and more comfy the longer she wore it. Although they probably didn't have to know that she secretly half-froze her water bottle the night before so she had some cold water to drink when she woke up later.

Still, back to the point…

The responding grimace on Sterling's face was enough to express that _that_ was definitely not a good idea.

"Fortunately, a little chat with the pilot had me learning that we'll be stopping for some refueling on Vytal very soon. We'll get our window then," Amber said. She frowned slightly as she recalled the conversation. "That pilot, though… he looked a bit nervous for some reason… and a bit twitchy. Weird." Then she made a nonchalant shrug and leaned back on her seat, crossing her arms behind her head and stretching her legs "Well, whatever it was, it's his business."

Digesting this tidbit, Sterling thought that maybe Amber should have at least learned more. What if the issue was a serious one and the guy was just pretending things were alright because he didn't want his reputation ruined?

But, alas, right now she just didn't have the energy—or urge—to say so. She didn't want any additional stress. Plus, the longer she sat comfortably on her chair, the more she wanted to just relax and, maybe, finally check out that package her mother had sent her before drifting off with the warm feeling she'd get from the gift.

Oh. Yeah. Speaking of which.

Sterling forward to reach for the backpack on the floor and pulled the zipper open. She reached inside and retrieved the package she'd received yesterday.

On the outside, the thing was hardly impressive in appearance. Just a plain brown box small enough to fit in her bag. But having held it in her hands and getting a better feel of its weight, she found that it wasn't as heavy as she'd thought. Which meant that whatever was inside, it was made from light materials. Curious and curiouser.

"You never did get to open that yesterday," Amber said, having noticed Sterling inspect the box. "Got any guesses on what's inside?"

"Some." Sterling started to tear off the tape, easing it from the surface with her fingernails first and then going in for the kill. She could feel her muscles strain from the effort, but she filled her mind with thoughts of some rest and relaxation later and persisted.

A couple ripping sounds later, the package was open and she pulled out a… set of clothes?

Wait, not just a set of clothes. But specifically, _the_ set of clothes she didn't think she'd see again after that day she'd spent with her mother.

The memory was coming to her now, once a blur and now crystal clear. It was… right, it was three years ago. Just a week before Mama was gone for good.

It was both their day off and they were just inside the house, spending time in content silence. Sterling didn't know what was going through the woman's mind, but then, suddenly, she pierced through all the quiet with a clap of her hands and decided that the two of them were going out. Right now. She'd been too busy these days, she'd said, and she didn't get to see her daughter often enough that she wanted to fix that. Sterling agreed and thought stretching their legs was a better alternative than just lazing around the house.

They'd gone off to eat at a restaurant. Nothing too fancy, but it was nice enough that it was worth coming back to. They had talked about how each other's week had gone, and after that, they had later spent the rest of the day just walking around the area and visiting the occasional store that might have something either of them wanted to buy. They had the Lien for it, so really, why not?

Sterling was pretty sure it was during that time when the sight of some clothes caught Mama's fancy and they ducked inside a store full of them to check them out. Although, come to think of it, the place was specifically more of a boutique… Um. Anyway. Mama browsed for some dresses, Sterling was content to just judge which looked good on the woman…

Until something had caught her eye.

During that age, Sterling hadn't given a thought about what could have happened if she had her life taking another direction. She'd gotten far in life living safely, so what was the point of thinking about such things when life was great right now?

But the moment she saw those clothes and had an idle though about the ensemble being something she'd consider wearing if she was a Huntress, well, that was when things snowballed from there and she started wondering about the what-ifs.

Of course, that was when Mama noticed her staring at those clothes. She asked if Sterling wanted them. Sterling shook her head no. It was alright; she didn't need it. It just caught her eye, is all, and if she got one more set of clothes, her closet was going to explode. Her mother left it at that, they went back, and that was that.

Or so she'd thought.

Turns out, Mama had decided to get this for her in secret. She coined packages like this as gifts from the past, and you got them when you least expect it. Yeah… Iris did like doing that, sending things that wouldn't be received by their recipient until a year or two had passed. Sometimes it was just a letter full of encouragement or support; sometimes it was something like this. She was pretty perceptive, Sterling would give her that.

"Hey," Amber said, "you okay?"

Sterling blinked and found her mind returned to the present. And… that was when she realized her eyes had blurred with tears. And her cheeks were damp… whoops. She quickly wiped them away with a hand, turned her head to Amber, and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. I just suddenly missed my mom, is all. It's only been three years since," she confessed. "I didn't think I'd still get one last thing from her."

"Oh. Wow. Sorry to hear that." Amber's expression shifted into that of concern. "You gonna be okay? Do you, ah, need some time alone?"

"Yes, and no, I don't need a moment," Sterling said. And she meant it—for the most part. It wasn't really easy to get over a death, but in general she thought she'd been doing fine. "I'm fine."

She decided to return her attention to the clothes after that and Amber was content to just let her.

The clothes were all neatly folded in the little box. A pair of black, thigh-high stockings that looked nice on the laced boots she wore. Fingerless gloves that almost reached her elbows. A short, equally black, sleeveless dress that also looked equal parts fancy and pretty. There was just something about that white collar—paired with a black ribbon—and those white frills that she liked. And the best part? It wasn't the v-neck kind of collared dress, but rather the one that wrapped around her neck.

Amber glanced at the clothes in Sterling's hand, then at Sterling herself, and nodded in approval.

"Yeah, looks good." She seemed to agree even more, the longer she stared at her. Her smile grew wide with the excitement of a kid opening a Christmas gift. "You have to try it on!"

Sterling raised her eyebrows at Amber in incredulity. "What, now?"

"Yes, now!"

The brown-haired girl even decided to stand up and, without warning, approach Sterling and pull her to her feet. The latter made a surprised sound from the sudden change in periphery and nearly dropped the package. Thankfully, she recovered quickly enough and shot Amber a you-don't-amuse-me-but-okay-fine expression. Which probably wasn't translated well, but yes, _alright, sheesh_. She finally decided to get a move on before it was decided she needed to be pushed towards the washroom, too.

It didn't really take her long to finish changing and await Amber's judgment. Though the dress hugged her waist a little too tightly for her liking, in general it fit her just right. She might have despaired a bit at the fact it meant she hadn't done a lot of growing for the past couple years, though. Just a bit. Her movement also wasn't restricted in the least, if the way she walked without difficulty were of any indication, and the attire was just… perfect. Like it belonged to her all her life.

Ah, that wonderful feeling when you really knew how to pick 'em. No sarcasm intended.

"Well?" Sterling asked as Amber gave her a stare bordering on really, really intense. Feeling a little silly, she also did a slow, little spin to give the other Maiden a better look. "What do you think?"

"You look awesome," Amber replied. "In fact, I'd say all you need to complete the ensemble now is a short cloak, a belt where you can strap your weapon on, and then, _perfection_."

An image of Amber's own cloak came to mind. The girl had discarded it somewhere for the meantime, but no doubt she'd wear it again once they were traveling on foot.

"I'll look like you, you mean?"

Her companion merely gave a toothy grin and pointed a thumb to herself. "Hey, I look awesome and you know it! In fact I—"

There was a sudden sound of a distant explosion.

Sterling and Amber could only stare at each other in surprise when it happened. But then they never had the opportunity to speak because, as soon as the loud sound faded, the airship was suddenly tilting downward. It caused Sterling to lose her footing and Amber, defensive instincts kicking in, to catch her on instinct. After regaining a semblance of balance, Amber helped her move to the nearest seat she could cling to.

The airship continued staying tilted.

In fact, as Sterling managed a peek at the small windows on the side, the way everything outside came off as slanted indicated that the airship was actually _falling_.

Grace under pressure was something Sterling had as an acquired skill during the time she'd spent as a receptionist for the Schnee Dust Company. With her superiors being slave drivers and her customers often being snotty and spoiled beyond reason, it was a daily struggle to not strangle anyone and carry on with a smile on her face. It was the kind of thing she'd been trained for.

Trying to stay calm as the airship steadily made its way down, however, was a different challenge entirely.

"W-we're not going to actually _die_ , are we?" Sterling couldn't stop her voice from trembling. The words were out of her mouth before she realized a second later that no, probably not, because this wasn't going to be the equivalent of a plane crash on Earth; this was Remnant, Aura and magic was a thing, and there was a reason why a "landing strategy" was a common concept among combatants.

Well, she _hoped_ that was the case, but it was really hard to not panic when her civilian instincts were yet to be completely gotten rid of.

The calm, focused expression on Amber's face pretty much answered her question.

Of course, it helped that that was the moment when Qrow came running to their location. Upon seeing the man, Sterling immediately knew that he was in Huntsman mode; there was none of the nonchalance and more of the serious business. Maybe even some badassery. She also didn't realize until she saw him that his presence alone was enough to make her feel that things weren't as dire as she'd thought.

He stared at the two of them, confirmed that both were safe and unharmed—for the most part, given Sterling's paleness—and nodded.

"Alright, you two," Qrow said. "Bad news is, if the explosion hadn't been obvious enough, the airship's suffered a malfunction and we're dropping from the sky. You can thank your _responsible_ captain for not turning the damn thing around the moment he found out something hadn't been correctly repaired during its last maintenance. Bastard's lucky enough we managed to stay on the air for this long."

"And the good news?" Sterling asked.

"The wings on this thing's made sure we're gliding downward, not dropping like a rock. The landing's not going to be pretty, but we'll be able to get out of this unscathed." And before Sterling could make a sigh of relief, the man added, "Provided we jump out at the right moment."

Oh, whew, that's what they only needed to do? Well, it beat being a part of the wreckage—

"What?" Sterling's eyes went wide. "We're _jumping_?"

Qrow rolled his eyes at that. _Civilians_ , Sterling was pretty sure he'd just said in his mind. Yes, well, sorry, familiarization with a landing strategy or no, she still found the thought of jumping out of a falling airship to be something more suited to an action movie. A superhero one.

It was a knee-jerk reaction, okay?

"I'll help you along, don't worry," Amber decided to say just then, offering Sterling a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine."

Oh, she hoped.

"Well, moving on," Qrow then said. "This wasn't something I'd been thinking of introducing to you soon, but with our current situation, there's not really much of a choice."

This time, the man was looking at her alone. Not Amber, not anyone else, _her_.

She immediately decided that was a bad omen.

As a matter of fact, it was.

"You're going to be up for a crash course in landing strategies, Yin."

She was pretty sure that pun was unintended.

* * *

 **A/N:** Okaaaaay, I know this chapter has been a long time coming. I've been pretty much busy with life, honestly. I finally graduated from college, and right now I'm basically job-hunting. Fun. But I managed to write this, finally, and that's definitely awesome. Sorry it took a while, though!

So. Uhhh. I was actually tempted to stop at the explosion portion, but honestly, I don't think a cliffhanger's going to do me good this time. Unless I manage to do a quick update. So what I ended up with was this, and hopefully, this chapter is to everyone's satisfaction. I tried.


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